It Is What It Is
by Insideimfeelindirty
Summary: AU. April is a blue-collar scholarship student at a white collar boarding school for the rich and privileged. Ignored by most of her classmates and her perfect roommate, she struggles to fit in. Jackson Avery is the most popular boy in her year, the name on every girl's lips. *My very first attempt, be gentle with me ;) May possibly, very likely, turn into M later on*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own any of these characters**

**This was also slightly inspired by the rather wonderful "Prep" by Curtis Sittenfeld.**

She dumped her heavy bag on the bed while she struggled to drag her suitcase across the carpeted floor. She mentally chided herself for sending her dad away by the front gate instead of letting him persuade her to help her to her room. She had known that she had not hidden her embarrassment to be seen with him well enough, and his evident hurt and disappointment in her still hung over her like a dark cloud. It was immature and unkind on her behalf, she knew. He was working himself into the ground to pay for her tuition fee, and while she appreciated it more than she could ever tell him it was also one of the sources of her embarrassment. The fact that her father had to grind away at his manual tasks at their family farm to pay for what her academic scholarship didn't cover made her a rare bird at her new school. She was a blue collar scholarship kid at a white collar boarding school for the rich and privileged. Scholarships were rarely handed out, not because the academic standards were so high, but because the families that sent their kids here could afford to pay the full fee with such a margin that they rarely thought to apply. April was one of twenty students that had earned a scholarship this year, and the other 580 or so girls and boys filling into the dormitories around campus had no idea that she was significantly less privileged than them. Yet.

After maneuvering her suitcase fully into the small dorm room she flopped unceremoniously onto her bed and began to scan her new surroundings. The room was long and narrow with two small single beds on either side of the room, two desks intersecting the corner by the window and two small wardrobes sandwiched awkwardly in between the desks and the beds. She had been warned that the room she would be sharing with a girl she only knew as an abstract name for the next six months was the smallest in her halls. The too-perky light blue paint on the walls paired with the nondescript beige carpet didn't help. April sighed heavily and groaned softly as she could feel a sharp pain in her neck. She really should have let her dad help her with her bags.

She had been desperate to come here, to get away from her three sisters and the family farm in rural Ohio. It hadn't really mattered to her where she was going, as long as she was far enough away from the oppressive familiarity of her birthplace. Moline felt too small for her, her parents too protective, her sisters too overbearing. She had big dreams for herself, but at home she had felt like she was drowning, like her life was passing her by. She had begged and pleaded with her parents until they caved. Her mother had cried when they sat her down at the kitchen table and told her they would let her go to any boarding school of her choice provided she could get a scholarship to cover most of the fees. She had spent every night after school for two full months researching east coast boarding schools before she had decided on Hartwell. She couldn't really explain why she had chosen to come here, other than she had liked the brochure. The glossy pictures showed bright green football fields, beautiful old brick buildings, blonde girls in pleated skirts holding hockey sticks and laughing. It couldn't have been further from her parents dusty pig farm and the run-down boxy middle school she had been attending. As soon as she had seen it she had considered it her escape and had worked tirelessly to pass her scholarship exams. Now that she was finally here she was beginning to wonder how she would ever fit in here.

She had almost finished unpacking her things when the door swung open and a tall blonde stepped in. She didn't look real, she looked like she could be one of those girls holding a hockey stick in the school brochure. In fact she was wearing a navy pleated skirt and a school blazer. April had wrongly assumed that the students wouldn't dress so formally in real life.

"You must be April", she shrilled.

It wasn't a question, more a statement of fact. "I'm George. I was supposed to have a single room this year, but they fucked me over".

She offered no further explanation, and clearly expected no verbal response from April as she dumped her bags on the floor, jumped up on her bed and expertly produced a cigarette and a lighter from her inside pocket. April had always been timid, shy even. Her brazen roommate had temporarily rendered her speechless.

"I-i... Umm..", she attempted.

George looked at her briefly with one eyebrow arched into a question mark before proceeding to light up her cigarette, blowing out big puffs of smoke whilst producing a gleaming white brand new iPhone.

"Sorry".

The first two weeks at Hartwell went by painfully slowly for April. Conversations with George had barely progressed beyond short factual statements from her and monosyllabic responses from April, usually in the form of apologies. Her fellow classmates all seemed to know each other from middle school, and had little interest in making new friends. April had tried to approach a few of them after class, but she could tell they thought she was either too perky, too geeky or just plain awkward. It was as if they could smell her scholarship money, or lack thereof. Her clothes weren't quite right, her shoes were just slightly too scuffed and her hair was altogether... too much. Mealtimes were painful. April had never had any problem finding people to sit with at lunch back home, but the massive communal dining hall had become a source of deep anxiety within the first two days here. She tried to find a quiet spot in the corner to pick at her overcooked vegetables and unidentifiable meat product, but the dining hall seemed to fill up so much quicker here that she usually ended up sitting with groups of strange boys who proceeded to completely ignore her for the entire meal. George would usually avoid her outside their room, plainly too important and too popular to be friends with someone so different from the Hartwell mould. George's friends were all blonde or black haired, groomed but not made up, beautiful but discreetly so. Perfect teeth, athletic bodies, perfectly manicured nails, au naturel of course. They all wore their formal school clothes like it was the most natural thing, whilst April either looked like a middle-aged business woman or a deranged art teacher on alternate days. Her Ohio wardrobe was letting her down in a dramatic way in Connecticut.

After two weeks April was so starved of real conversation that she practically chewed the ear off the nurse at the health centre during her admissions check up.

"Honey", she smiled.

"Breathe. I'm not going anywhere".

April realized she had been ranting on while the nurse had unsuccessfully tried to listen to her heartbeat. As she sat back down in the waiting room, she noticed a short, pixie-ish girl on the other side of the room. April decided she had to extend her social circle beyond curt exchanges with George and verbal diarrhea in the school nurse's office, so attempted to catch the attention of the bird-like creature sitting across from her.

"Hey, I'm April", she started.

"You new around here too?"

The brunette turned towards her, brown eyes blinking at her in confusion.

"Sorry?" She almost whispered as she pulled out her ear buds, and April quickly realized she hadn't heard a word she had said.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just introducing myself. I'm April. And you are...?"

The other girl looked at her as if she had slapped her across the face. April fleetingly wondered if she was high or something.

"I'm Hannah", she finally said.

"Sorry, it's just that I haven't had a proper conversation with anyone since term started".

April could have hugged her.

She had finally made a friend. Hannah turned out to be April's salvation from the dining room awkwardness. Just like April, Hannah didn't know anyone else at Hartwell, but instead of braving the dining hall she had been eating contraband food her mother had sneaked into her suitcase for every meal since she got to campus. Thankfully for Hannah, April came into her life just as she had finished her last protein bar. Hannah clearly came from money, with her perfectly polished hair and expensive clothes, but she was still different from George's über perfect posse. Hannah laughed a little too loudly at April's jokes, ate her lunches far too quickly and seemed completely oblivious to anyone but April when they were together. Hannah made April thrive at Hartwell. She finally stopped caring about not fitting in with her classmates and not speaking to her roommate, and was eventually able to focus on her schoolwork. They even joined the student newspaper together. April already had her college admissions in mind and was acutely aware that any extra curricular activities would help her get closer to her dream, her reason for pushing to come here.

Hannah had left school two days before the holidays,her family were going on some exotic adventure for a week. April was staying at school for the week, since her parents couldn't afford her plane ticket home and refused to let her take the bus. She was dreading it, being alone in the dining room yet again. Today the dining room was emptier than usual, many kids having already left to go home to big mansions or flown off on expensive holidays with their families. She found an empty table towards the back of the room and sat down with her red plastic tray filled with dubious looking sausages and some sort of potato mush. She was almost half way through her meal when George unceremoniously dumped down next to her.

"My friends have basically abandoned me" she offered.

"Mine too" April chirped back.

George shrugged and turned her focus on her meal. A salad of course. No dressing. They churned away in silence when April suddenly became aware that someone was staring at her. She looked up and all she could see were liquid pools of bluish-green. It took her a while to even register that she was staring someone right into their eyes, it wasn't until eyelashes fluttered to break the staring contest that she became acutely aware that those eyes belonged to a boy. She quickly averted her gaze and felt her cheeks burn hot.

"Hey George, ok if we sit here?".

He didn't address her, or look at her again.

Thank god too, because she was unable to lift her gaze above his cheek. He sat down, as did his two other friends. They all seemed to know George, and April vaguely recognized them as part of her regular crew. Not that she dared look directly at any of them. She had a strange feeling that she was somehow not supposed to be there, as if she was flying too close to the sun. The four other people at the table continued to ignore her throughout the rest of the meal. George never bothered to introduce her, and the three boys never spoke to her. She was a slow eater, so the three boys finished their lunch and got up to leave just as she pushed the last mouthful past her lips.

"Laters, boys" George smiled.

April thought to herself that it was the first time George had smiled in her presence.

"See ya George" the shorter blonde boy looked hesitantly towards April's roommate.

"You staying on campus for the holidays?"

George shrugged and gave him a short confirmatory nod.

"Right, well I'll see you when I get back then I guess".

April figured they probably lived in the same town and he was disappointed he wouldn't get to see George during the school holiday.

"Avery here is staying too if you get bored and need some company" he gestured towards the taller, darker boy.

April quickly glanced in his direction, and was immediately sorry, because those eyes were there again, boring into her.

"Laters, ladies" he smiled, and as he did the hairs on her neck pricked up.

Of course, the eyes she had gotten lost in belonged to none other than Jackson Avery. The one and only Jackson Avery. The very same name she had heard uttered by nearly every girls lips in her dorm and in her class, usually followed by a deep sigh or soft moan. The very same. That night she woke up at 4 am covered in sweat, unable to remember what dream had woke her up so abruptly. When she fell back asleep she could think of nothing but searing bluish-green eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! This will probably not be too cute, teen love is always angsty and complicated, right? Also, I wanted to explain where I got the name George from, it's not really a reference to George O'Malley. I went to boarding school myself with a girl named George (short for Georgina). I kind of think girls with boys names is quite a waspy phenomenon, maybe it's just a British thing?**

The following day the school emptied before lunchtime. Only a handful of students remained , whose parents lived too far away or were too busy to take the time off. April hoped that her fellow students would think that's why she had to stay too. Not that anyone had bothered to ask. Not even Hannah had questioned her about it. She was not looking forward to the coming week, mostly because she knew she had no classes, no homework and no Hannah to fill her days. The fact that George was staying too only made things more complicated. There was only so many hours they could spend in each others company in complete silence.

April stepped into the dim dining hall and was relieved to see that she could have her pick of empty tables. She spotted a couple of older kids in deep conversation in one corner, a lone Asian girl reading a giant textbook in the other. There were a few more tables with small groups or lone occupants, but she saw no one she recognized from class or her dorm. George was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. She could bear the solitude much better than the awkwardness of being ignored. She slumped heavily down in her seat and stared down at her stodgy lunch tray. She had nothing to do, no plans for the rest of the day so she slowly started to pick at her food, willing her meal to consume as much of her time as possible. She should have brought a book, like the Asian girl sitting three tables down from her. April smiled brightly at her when she looked up from her book and noticed April's eyes on her. The petite Asian girl scowled back at her. April inhaled deeply and got up to put her tray back. It was going to be a long week.

Just as she exited the dining hall April thought she caught a glimpse of golden brown skin and a flash of bright blueish-green. Suddenly she could hear her blood thumping in her ears and her heart speeding up. She felt light headed as she stepped out into the drizzle and had to briefly steady herself against the wall. Jackson. She had forgotten he was staying back too. Or no, she hadn't forgotten, but she told herself that she had. She had tried not to think about him at all since yesterday, convinced herself that she had so many more important thoughts in her head. She practically had to concentrate on directing her thoughts away from him. She felt ridiculous even wasting a little bit of energy thinking about him. He was Jackson Avery for goodness sake. Varsity football and basketball star, heir to the Avery family fortune, responsible for the batting of lashes and fluttering of hearts wherever he went. She refused to fall for the first cliché boy crush that came her way and willed her heart to slow down to a normal steady rhythm. When she finally left the dining hall there was only a slight dull ache in the pit of her stomach to remind her of him.

The next few days were uneventful and excruciatingly dull. April spent most of her time in the library swatting up on next semesters curriculum, purely out of boredom. She was getting increasingly frustrated with this holiday, more than ready for classes to start up again and her now familiar daily routine to get back on track. She even tried to vent to George, who looked at her as if she was speaking Greek when she complained that she even missed her chemistry lessons. April had no idea how George spent her days, though she occasionally came back to their room dressed in running tights and drenched in sweat. She must be bored out of her mind too.

The school had organised a few outings for the few students that had stayed back, and April welcomed every single one of them. A trip to the nearby mall had been uneventful, though she had enjoyed the change in scenery. Her parents had sent her a little pocket money so she had been able to get a couple of things that she hoped would help her blend in to the Hartwell aesthetic a little better. Tonight the school had arranged for them to go to the cinema and even George had perked up when April mentioned it to her. As they approached the small bus waiting at the school gates her heart involuntary sped up as she spotted Jackson waiting just outside. He flashed a big smile at her and slowly turned to face her.

"Hey". He spoke softly, with familiarity.

April could feel her face contort into a stupid grin and slowed down her pace to savour the moment. As she did George quickly fell into step with him and Jackson snaked his arm over her shoulders. April's smile dropped, her heart beating so loud she could barely hear her own footsteps anymore. Of course he had been waiting for George, not her.

Once they were on the bus and on their way, George ignored her completely, already caught up in deep conversation with Jackson. She was sitting alone a few seats behind them, trying to breathe deeply hoping that her red cheeks would calm down with her breathing. She was unbearably hot even though it was the middle of autumn and raining lightly outside. When they finally made it to the cinema she quickly ducked into the dark room, thankful that no one could see her flustered face inside. As the movie started she spotted her roommate sitting a few rows ahead of her snuggled up to Jackson. She averted her eyes and tried to focus on the screen, but the movie was terrible. The plot was paper thin, and every big name and clichéd piece of dialogue the director had thrown at it to cover that up only made it more and more ridiculous. George was clearly bored too, leaning into the boy sitting next to her whispering something that made him laugh out loud, completely out of context to what was happening on the big screen. April couldn't help herself, before she knew it she had burst out laughing too, shaking her head in exasperation. An older man sitting on the row in front of her turned around and gave her a stern look, so she quickly scrambled out of her seat and ran out of the cinema into the ladies room.

After splashing her face with water, she was pleased to see that her face was finally a normal colour, if a little pink in the cheeks. She walked out of the lavatories only to walk straight into another person. She bumped her nose against a hard chest and felt that someone's knee sharply digging into her thigh. She yelped out in pain, tears spilling from her eyes before she could even register what had happened. Her hands instinctively flew up to cover her nose, expecting blood to come gushing out, but thankfully nothing came.

"Shit, are you ok?", she heard a voice filled with concern probe her. Heavy hands were placed on her shoulders and she could feel someone leaning in over her to investigate further.

She knew without looking up that she had walked straight into Jackson.

"Y-yeah... I'm fine", she said a little too brightly, and without conviction.

She tilted her head back and quickly shook her head to rid her eyes of the tears that were overflowing. She roughly wiped away the ones that had already escaped down her cheeks and finally met his gaze. She wanted to cry all over again. He was leaning in far too closely, his eyes still filled with concern and boring into hers. He held her gaze as he moved one hand to cup her chin and slowly twisted her head from side to side studying her damaged nose intently.

"Do you think it's broken?" April squealed.

_Christ_, she thought, _try not to squeal at him Apes! Your nose may be broken but your brain is still intact!_

_"_Probably not" he concluded after finishing his examination.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't see you come bursting out of there" he offered.

"I'm ok, really" her voice several octaves lower this time, convincing him with her tone of voice she was not a hysterical little girl.

He finally let go of her chin, only to place his hand back down on her shoulder. His eyes still burning into hers, searching them for some confirmation that she really was as ok as she claimed to be. The initial surge of adrenalin from their collision was now starting to wear off and a now April was starting to feel mortified. Mortified that she had crashed into him of all people, mortified that he had seen her cry, mortified that she had squealed at him - she really hated that her voice so easily broke into high pitch when she lost control of her emotions - and mortified that she was still standing in such close proximity to him, staring into his magnetic eyes. His hands were searing hot on her shoulders and his hard body hovering over her was starting to make her knees shaky. She had to break the spell, it was all too much for her to take.

"Ha ha, your chest almost broke my nose, maybe it's time to lay off those steroids" she laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

His eyes flickered and he quickly removed his hands from her shoulders, taking a few steps back as if she had burned him. She realized too late that she had said the wrong thing. He smiled a thin smile at her, not quite reaching his eyes.

"We better get back"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So I know we'd all love to get to the M rating sooner rather than later, but this is supposed to be freshman year for Japril, so I think they're a bit too young for that sort of nonsense just yet. But hang in there, as I plan for this story to span the whole 4 years of high school and there will be both angst, fluff and smut coming up. I'm not going to make it easy for you though - I personally kinda miss the Japril angst and tension, so that's what I'm going for here :) hope you like. **

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April woke up early the following morning with a sinking feeling in her gut. She winced in pain as she swung her legs over the side of her bed. Her nose was throbbing and the searing pain reached right behind her eyes threatening to pull them right back into her head. She wrapped her robe tightly around her body and walked down the hall to the communal bathrooms. She gasped as she stared into her unfamiliar reflection in the mirror. Dark red circles had formed under her eyes and her nose was speckled with a patchwork of purple and red contusions. She gingerly ran her fingers over her bruised face and as she reached the bridge of her nose she couldn't help but exclaim into a series of profanities that she didn't even know she possessed in her vocabulary. Her nose was most likely broken after all.

She stepped into the shower cubicle, unwrapping herself from her robe. As she got under the hot water she winced again as her hand had brushed over her left thigh. There, just above her knee, another dark bruise had formed, hard under the skin. Another reminder of yesterday's accident. As she went over every detail of the brief moment she had spent alone with those eyes and those hands, her heart sank. She had embarrassed herself, she had cried, she had squealed and she had insulted him, laughed at him even. She let out a short laugh, which threatened to turn into a sob. God, she was such a loser. As much as she had tried to avoid thinking about him, falling for him like every other girl in her year, here she was beating herself up over how she acted around him after he had physically hurt her.

_Stop it_, she mentally chided herself. _You're better than this Apes, better than all those other girls_.

Except she wasn't. She was exactly like those other girls. It was already too late, this crush had taken hold of her and refused to let go.

A trip to the health center later that day confirmed Jackson's original diagnosis that her nose was in fact not broken. It was badly bruised however, and after some icing down and a hefty round of painkillers April felt somewhat ready to face the world again. She quickly scurried across campus hoping to avoid any of the other kids left behind by their families. As she slipped into the safety of her own room George rolled over and stretched her body sleepily before facing April.

"Holy crap" she croaked, sleep still evident in her voice.

"What the fuck happened to your face?"

Her initial look of horror seamlessly merged into one of amusement, and slight condescension, April was sure.

"Erm..."

She was not about to reveal that she had had a physical encounter with her perfect roommate's perfect possible boyfriend so her brain scrambled for a plausible explanation.

"I-I ran into a big door at the cinema last night".

It was practically true, even though she now sounded like a domestic abuse victim putting a brave face on it.

"Brilliant" George chuckled.

George had managed to convince April to come to the dining hall for lunch, despite her protests that she looked like a drunk boxer. It was hard to say no to George. She wanted George to like her, hell, she wanted to be George. At least April's now unfortunate face seemed to please her in a strange way. She also suspected George didn't like to be alone, and with all her perfect friends gone for the week April was basically her only choice. She also secretly hoped, though she had tried to suppress those thoughts as soon as they appeared in her head, that Jackson would be there. Once they were halfway through their salads, no dressing, he did in fact settle down at their table. He sat next to April, facing George. All the hairs on her body pricked up, her hands going clammy at the same time. She looked down at her lunch, licking her fork slowly, too afraid to look at him.

"Whoa, your face!"

He gently tugged her shoulder so she was forced to face him. She shrugged quickly and put her hand protectively over her nose, as if that would make her bruises invisible to him.

"April ran into a door at the cinema last night" George triumphantly explained.

"Right. A door" he repeated, raising one eyebrow into a question and stifling a grin by biting down on his lower lip.

April returned to her salad, leaving George and Jackson free to have a conversation without including her. She was surprised when they seemed to have little to say to each other. Mostly they seemed to be talking about their other friends. April said nothing for the rest of the meal and was relieved to be going back to her room to her textbooks.

She spent the next days hiding out in the library, only darting into the dining hall to meet George for lunch or dinner. Jackson was never there, and George never mentioned him. The dark red circles under her eyes were now a deep shade of purple with yellow and green patches at the edges. Her nose was dark blue. She had never felt less attractive her whole life, which was saying something. She had never been confident in her looks. Being surrounded by her more beautiful, more outgoing sisters had put serious dents in her self-confidence. She had been forced to wear braces for three agonizing years, whenever she caught the sun freckles would appear all over her face, and while her three sisters all had beautiful strawberry blonde hair, hers had always been fiery red. She sighed heavily as she closed her books and headed out the door. Hopefully her face would return to a more normal colour before the other students returned in a couple of days.

She pulled her parka closer to her body as she stepped out. It was already dark out and winter was in the air. There was an icy, biting wind she had not experienced at Hartwell yet, so she decided to cut through the athletic centre instead of walking round like she normally did. She had only been inside a handful of times, she was not a huge fan of sports and only engaged in them when she was required to. The place was massive, bigger than she remembered, and dimly lit. She walked down the corridor, slightly creeped out by the eerie silence. She hurried her steps as she reached the end of the corridor, confused for a second when faced with two doors a couple of feet apart. She chose one at random, picking the wrong one. She pushed open the heavy door only to find herself inside one of the basketball courts, sparsely lit, with a lone occupant.

"Hey".

Jackson. Sweaty, half-naked Jackson.

"S-sorry, got the wrong door" she turned to leave.

"Not doing too well with doors these days, are you?" he smirked, taking a few steps towards her.

She turned to face him, leaning back against the cool metal door, clutching her textbooks tightly to her chest.

"Guess not" she admitted, smiling briefly.

She felt his eyes on her again, boring into her, burning her with his gaze. She looked up, expecting him to be further away from her than he was, but he kept moving closer. He was making her really nervous, she was not used to being alone with boys, let alone sticky, shirtless boys with brilliant, searching eyes.

"I really am sorry about your nose" he offered, his voice low as he was now so close to her he could have whispered and she would have heard him perfectly.

Her words were stuck in her throat. She was frozen to the ground, paralysed by his presence. She swallowed hard as he moved even closer, dropping the basketball he had been holding. It bounced away from them, before slowly rolling away into a dark corner. His eyes never left hers. He finally reached her, one arm on the door behind her, one cupping her chin, tilting her face up towards him. He dropped his gaze to her lips, slowly licking his before pressing his mouth softly onto hers. He kissed her sweetly at first, but soon his mouth became hungrier, his tongue pushing in between her lips, greedily exploring her mouth. As he slowly pulled away, her hands were still clutching her textbooks. His eyes were on hers again, searching them for answers to unspoken questions. He pulled his hand away, stroking her cheek softly as he took a small step backwards.

April was gasping for air. Her head in turmoil, every nerve in her body on full alert.

"Um..." she managed.

"What about George?"

A look of confusion spread across his face, clearly not understanding.

"George?"

"I-I thought..." She left the sentence hanging between them, asking the question again.

"My friend Tom's had a major crush on George since they were 7, she's off limits" he said simply, shrugging.

"Right".

Not the fervent admission of feelings towards her or denial of them towards her roommate she had hoped for. Sensing that he'd not quite said the right thing he sighed in exasperation and stared hard at the floor between them. She finally managed to unlock her legs and slowly ready her body for movement again. He shifted slightly to the side to let her slip past him, and gave her a final searing stare before slowly backing away from her. She silently slipped out into the hall again, found the right door and stepped out into the cold air.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Can't stop updating at the moment, mainly because I'm super impatient and I want to find out where this is all going myself... Also, I'm trying to get this rolling properly before I have to go away for a little bit, hope I'm not freaking you out with these frequent updates. Anyways, so the kiss was a surprise, I've got some more coming up for you, but for now mild anxiety and a fairly giddy April will suffice.**

**Also, been trying to work on my dialogue a bit. Dialogue is hard guys!**

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She had been awake for hours, lying in her narrow bed staring at the ceiling. Her body was tense, her hands constantly twisting and winding her hair around her fingers. She could not believe what had happened in the basketball court earlier. She knew their unfortunate collision had put her on his radar, but aside from that they had barely exchanged two sentences between them. She wasn't even sure he knew her name. It had been her first kiss, guys at her middle school back in Ohio hadn't exactly been lining up for her. It had been her first kiss, and it had been nothing like she had imagined it. She had expected her first kiss to be romantic and sweet and soft, not intense and...dangerous. She realized now that he terrified her. His searing gaze and the heat that radiated off his body and right into the pit of her stomach felt too serious, too much. It felt like he might push her over some imagined line she did not want to cross. She closed her eyes, willing herself to go to sleep, but all she could see was bluish-green eyes gazing into hers and soft lips exploring her mouth.

The following week everyone was back and her nose and eyes a less noticeable shade of light purple mixed with yellow. Of course everyone noticed anyway, amused by her apparent failure to navigate past doors like a normal person. As if her classmates didn't already find her awkward, her battered face reminded them all yet again that she was different from them. She only confessed the truth about what happened to Hannah, who was the only person able to fully grasp just how humiliating the experience had been for April. She didn't tell her about what happened at the basketball court though. She didn't know how to describe what happened truthfully, and April sensed that Jackson wouldn't want her to tell anyone. It felt too personal, as if telling anyone about that night might mean it never really happened.

Of course she would see him everywhere now. Her body was like a magnet orbiting around him, constantly aware of his presence even if she couldn't see him. She saw him on his way to class, in the dining hall, joking with his friends outside the athletic centre, casually flinging an arm around some perfect girl on the way to assembly. He never looked in her direction, never noticed her like she noticed him. He was a constant presence to her, a dull feeling in her belly when he was close by. By the end of the week April begun to think she had imagined the whole thing. There was nothing in Jackson's behaviour suggesting that he thought about her like she thought of him - every minute of every day.

Exams were a few weeks away and she had never felt less focused despite being desperate to prove to her teachers and her parents that she deserved to be here at Hartwell. She spent her nights at the library as usual but the words on the pages seemed to merge into each other. She had just read the same sentence six times but the information just wouldn't stick. She decided she needed a break and headed out to the now covered tennis courts right behind the library. She settled down on a bench a little away from the path that ran between the library and the tennis courts and inhaled the cool night air deeply. She needed to maintain her A- average each semester to be able to keep her scholarship, so she really couldn't afford to lose her focus like this, especially not over something so trivial as a boy. Ever since her uncle Dan had got caught under a tractor at the family farm when she was 8 years old she had wanted to become a doctor. There had been blood everywhere and a lot of screaming, which didn't faze her. She was used to pigs being slaughtered, she was not squeamish in the slightest. But she had seen her uncles mangled legs being put back together by surgeons at the hospital in Toledo, she had been allowed to see the x-rays and touch the screws that were poking through her uncle's skin and she had been fascinated. She wanted to get into the best medical school she could - Harvard, Stanford, Washington, North Carolina - all those places were on her list and she still needed to make that happen.

"April?"

Ok, so he knew her name.

Jackson slid down on the bench next to her.

"What are you doing sitting out here in the cold?"

"Needed a break from studying. Can't seem to focus much these days" she smiled thinly.

"You're pretty serious about school, aren't you?"

Was this actually happening? A normal conversation with Jackson Avery? It seemed almost more surprising to her than when he had kissed her.

"Yeah, I've got to keep up my average so I can keep my scholarship".

_Shit!_ She forgot she had been trying to keep her scholarship under wraps. Why was she suddenly all talk around him? He didn't seem to judge her for it, nor did he notice that she had rolled her eyes at her own confession.

"You'll be fine, you're always working in the library, right?"

Ok, so now he noticed how she spent her days too? She couldn't help but give him a quizzical look.

"What? I notice, ok?"

"Noted" she smiled, glad that it was too dark out for him to see that her face had flushed bright red.

"So how come you decided to come to Hartwell?" he probed.

"I mean, it doesn't seem like your kind of place really".

"Um, not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not...?"

"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that, I just meant... You're different, that's all".

He was backtracking furiously. She decided to let it go, she knew she was different, she couldn't argue that fact.

"Asides from giving me the best possible academic chances, I guess I thought it would make my life more interesting".

Jackson nodded to himself, pondering her answer.

"Has it? Made your life more interesting?"

"Yeah, it has" she said truthfully.

She thought about her new life at school, and about how much she'd miss this place if she didn't manage to keep up her average. She shuddered at the thought. Although she still didn't feel like she fit in completely and George had gone back to ignoring her after all her perfect friends had returned from holiday, Hartwell had become a perfect escape from her small town upbringing. He mistook her shudder and moved closer to her, placing one arm on the back of the bench behind her, as if to warm her up. She shot him a wide eyed look, warning him off, not sure if she wanted to go down this road with him. Yet again she was unable to form words as the light from the pedestrian path behind them caught his eyes and made them sparkle. He softly brushed the hair away from her face, his fingertips barely grazing her skin. She was doomed once again, completely helpless as his face closed in on hers. This time the kiss was softer, gentler than the last time, less intrusive. His lips melted into hers, tongue softly meeting tongue. Suddenly she felt like she had been unlocked, finding the ability to move again, and she did. She eagerly grabbed the side of his neck, deepening their kiss. She was biting his bottom lip tenderly, breathing in his sweet breath, smiling into his mouth. As she pulled back she could smell him on her skin. That night she could still smell him on her skin.

It became a habit for them now, every other night or so he would find her as she came out of the library and pull her into the shadows behind the old brick building. They'd spend an hour or so together, wrapped in each other's arms before they had to rush off back to their respective dorms before curfew. If it was raining or snowing they'd duck into the empty pavilion by the tennis courts or an equipment room in the athletics centre. Squished in between nets of volley balls and thick rubber mats April lost herself in him, wanting nothing more than to be close to him. Time seemed to stand still when she was with him, just holding his hand could slow the world around her right down. She missed him when they weren't alone together, even if he was in the same room. Every night when they said goodnight it felt like goodbye, her body not recognising that the deprivation was temporary. She was infatuated with him, unable to see any flaw in him at all. Even as he kept her distance from her during the day, she convinced herself that he was doing it for her, to keep their private little bubble intact. She couldn't bring herself to tell Hannah about him, not knowing what label she could put on what they had, not knowing if she'd even believe her.

She would hear his name on other girls lips, followed by admiring glances and the fluttering of lashes. Her lashes would flutter right along with them, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. Occasionally her eyes would meet his across a courtyard or in the dining hall, she would always hold his gaze for a brief moment before tearing herself away, blinking rapidly as if she had been staring directly at the sun for too long.

"You like him, don't you?" Hannah asked, already knowing the answer.

"W-what? Who?"

_Crap_. She had met his gaze during assembly and held it for a few seconds longer than she normally would.

"Are you really gonna make me say it?" Hannah was incredulous.

"Sshh, keep your voice down" she hissed, looking around to make sure no one else had seen what Hannah had seen or overheard their conversation.

"Yeah, ok, I like him" she admitted in a barely audible whisper.

"You know he stares at you all the time" she whispered conspiratorially back, echoing April's low volume.

April glanced across the room, meeting his eyes again. This time she looked away immediately.

"Stop eyefucking him"

"Hannah!" April hissed back, burying her head in her hands.

"Seriously, stop it. You're embarrassing me" Hannah said in an overly serious voice.

April refused to look at her best friend, her face still covered by her hands. She shook her head. _Was it really that obvious? _

_"_Calm down, Apes" Hannah laughed, "I'm joking, I'm sorry!"

April felt Hannah's arms pulling her into a tight hug, but she was still not ready to come out from the provisional shelter her hands offered. Just as she thought she was going to have to tell Hannah everything the Headmaster walked into the assembly room, silencing the room. April had never been happier to see Dr Holden in her life, relieved that the topic was off limits for a while longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: thanks for all the reviews everyone, I really love getting them so keep em coming! Wasn't quite sure if I could keep the T rating for this one, I'm a terrible swearer so my characters all seem to have filthy mouths too. Any thoughts?**

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She clung to him, arms tightly around his neck, willing their time together to last and last. It was the day before school broke up for Christmas and she was heading back to Moline early the next morning. Three weeks without Jackson seemed like a harsh punishment she didn't know what she had done to deserve. She broke away from him, leaning her forehead into his, fixing her eyes on the concrete floor of the tennis pavilion they had snuck into.

"Is it sad that I wish this holiday wasn't happening?" she croaked.

He softly laughed, hands at either side of her face holding her just where he wanted her. His hand suddenly twisting into her hair, tugging tightly. This action alone made her open her mouth and melt her body into his. His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth, claiming her with every nip and tug. His other hand now on the small of her back, fingers splayed and digging into her greedily. She could feel her own heart thumping and pulsating between them, her breathing shallow and ragged, making her light-headed and weak in his arms. Sometimes when he kissed her like this she forgot to breathe altogether. Sometimes she forgot her own name.

The heat of their embrace intensified, and as Jackson's grip on her grew tighter panic started to rise in her throat, sensing that something had shifted between them. His hand moved slowly up her side, burning her skin as it moved. As it reached her breast his mouth tensed in hers, fingers reaching around to stroke her over the thin material of her shirt. The blood was now thumping hard in her ears, chills running down her back and her skin protesting into goosebumps. Her head was spinning, alarm bells going off screaming at her to pull away, but his hold on her was firm and unrelenting. Once again she was rendered paralysed by him, and she felt the muscles in his arms and abdomen move and tense into her. She felt a hardness pushing into her hip, and in a flash she understood and the spell was broken. They pulled away from each other simultaneously, dark eyes on her, hooded with heavy lashes. Silence hung in the air between them. He pulled at the waistband of his trousers, adjusting himself and April realised she was staring. She quickly averted her eyes before he noticed, flushing deeply.

"So, have a nice Christmas?" he offered, making it sound like a question.

"You too" she managed, barely able to meet his eyes.

Suddenly he was gone, leaving her to steady her knees alone.

April found herself back in her bedroom in Moline, anxiety preventing her from sleep. Her parents house was quiet, too quiet now that she had got used to the constant buzzing of activity of her dorm. She was used to falling asleep to muffled giggles, doors slamming and George's incessant tapping into her phone. Here she was alone with her thoughts, only punctuated by her elder sister's soft breathing in the bed across the room. Her mind was racing, every insecurity she had about herself bubbling to the surface. She groaned inwardly as she recalled how Jackson had touched her breast, and how her own body had betrayed her by hardening under his touch. It had been an involuntary reaction, hormones surging through her and responding to him without her permission. She had never imagined her body would react to him in such a way, nor that his would respond to hers either. She had often thought her face too plain or her hair too overpowering, but she had never even considered her body at all. Her body was an abstract form to her, serving the basic functions she required of it. She could mostly walk in a straight line, her legs could carry her through PE classes without creating too much spectacle, her body was neither a hindrance or a help to her in most situations. Except when exiting cinema lavatories obviously. But now she was forced to face up to what boys, or one boy in particular, might see when looking at her body. She was slender enough she supposed, though perhaps a little too hard and bony in places, a little to straight and flat in others. She was nothing like George or her perfect posse, there was no scandalous curve to her ass, no muscle tone to her legs, nothing bouncy under her shirt. Her body was still young, still boyish under the layers of clothes she armed herself with every day. That night when Jackson had kissed her with such passion, she had understood very clearly what dangers could lie in a kiss. He was pushing her towards that invisible, unspoken line she had set for herself and she was not ready to cross it with him yet.

Christmas passed slowly, each day inching her closer to her return to Hartwell. She had no way of contacting Jackson, phone numbers never having been exchanged. She spoke to Hannah every day, but avoided the topic of him feverishly. She rambled into the phone to Hannah about life at the farm, her exasperating sisters, her fussing mother. Hannah knew April well enough not to press her on the matter and let her continue her rants without interruption. She felt guilty for filling Hannah's ears with such detailed descriptions of insignificant happenings in her life, over sharing the unimportant things and sharing none of important ones with her. Hannah had become her truest confidante, accepting all of her insecurities about her background and her scholarship money without a hint of judgement, but sharing her inner turmoil regarding Jackson Avery seemed inconceivable to her.

As April returned to school she already knew that she would be unable to deny Jackson anything he asked of her and she was uneasy about how their eventual reunion might play out. She entered her room, surprised to see George's things in their place, as she had mentioned more than once that her mother was pulling some strings for her so she could finally have her single room. George swung into the room, slamming herself down on her bed with a huff.

"My mom is such a bitch" she sulked, producing her cigarettes from her inside pocket.

She then launched into a ramble about how her mother was ruining her life, how George could see right through her tough love crap and how unfathomable it was to her that her mother couldn't understand that teenagers needed their privacy. April's heart sank, she had hoped she would be on better terms with George by now, but it was clear she wanted nothing to do with her.

"Sorry" she mumbled, a catch in her voice as she spoke. "Guess you're stuck with me for the rest of the year".

George lifted her head, noticing the catch in her voice, something shifting in her tone of voice as she spoke again.

"It's fine" she said, glossing it over. "Fuck her".

She needed to get out of her cramped room and stepped out into the cold night hoping she'd run into Jackson. She blinked away the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes, wrapping her arms around her body tightly. She walked to the tennis pavilion, though no sign of him there. She waited a few minutes hoping he'd turn up, but she was too cold and too restless so walked round to the back of the library instead. Again, no Jackson. She ducked into the athletic centre, glad to be out of the cold, and she finally spotted him. He was not alone, dressed in his sports gear walking down the hallway and towards the basketball courts together with a couple of boys she recognised from her biology class. She tried to catch his eye as she followed them down the hallway, but he didn't see her. Just as he walked through the doors to the basketball court he turned and looked at her, but he gave her no sign that he had seen her, no recognition in his eyes. As the door slammed shut in front of her confusion set in. Not sure how to interpret the situation she quickly scurried out of the athletics centre and went to see Hannah instead.

"Apes!" she squealed, pulling her into a tight hug. "I missed you so much!"

Finally someone who was happy to see her! April hugged her back, not wanting to let her go.

"You look like shit!" Hannah exclaimed, never able to filter her thoughts as they left her brain and found their way out of her mouth. Usually April welcomed it, but she must have looked dejected as Hannah quickly tried to recover.

"In a good way, though! Like you've had a the stomach flu and lost seven pounds without even trying."

She had to laugh, Hannah had the worst sense of humour.

"Thanks, that's the worst compliment anyone's ever given me" she sniffled.

"Seriously though, I think you're the only person I know who can go back home for Christmas and actually come back skinnier. What's your secret, Kepner?"

_Jackson Avery's eyes. Jackson Avery's hands._ _Jackson Avery's mouth._

"My mom's cooking is actually worse than the stuff they serve here, believe it or not," she lied, rolling her eyes and smiling a little too brightly at her friend.

Four days passed and she had not seen Jackson yet. Well, she had seen him plenty of times, at lunch, on the way to class, going into the athletic centre as she walked home from the library, but she had not seen him alone. He was not waiting for her in the tennis pavilion or outside the library at night. He never met her eyes as she stared at him, looking for answers. And now she found that she couldn't stop staring at him, boring her eyes into him, willing him to acknowledge her with his eyes. Even George caught her staring at him once as they had walked to the dining hall together.

"Christ, pick your jaw up from the floor, April!" she snapped. "Your tongue is hanging out".

At least they had been alone.

On the Friday she was so frustrated and angry that she had gone to his dorm, full of bravado. Hartwell allowed visitation to the dorms, though with a strict open-door policy. She had never been into his building, intimidated by the thick clouds of testosterone hanging over the boys dorms. She walked in, having no idea where to start looking for his room, already losing her nerve. She caught the eye of a floppy haired blonde, slouched on a chair in the common room.

"You know where I can find Avery's room?" she asked impatiently.

"Looking for some Jackson-action are we?" he laughed, mocking her. "Form an orderly line by the door there, he will get to you in due time", his hand gesturing towards an imaginary queue of waiting hopefuls.

"Just tell me where his room is" she hissed, not in the mood for ridicule.

He pointed her in the right direction, shaking his head as she stomped down the hallway, red hair streaming behind her. He was sitting at his desk, headphones on, tapping away on his computer. She walked into the room, leaned against the wardrobe on the wall furthest from him, arms crossed in front of her chest. He caught sight of her, surprised to see her in this setting. He removed his headphones and turned around in his chair to face her. Uncertainty spreading across his face, he seemed at a loss for words. There was something else, something she couldn't quite identify, but she could see he was uncomfortable, not wanting to be so publicly alone with her. His nervousness made her uneasy and every well rehearsed line she had stored in her head was now lost forever.

"You've been gone" she simply said, hating the desperation that snuck into her voice.

He went to say something, words not quite reaching his lips.

"I've been busy" he finally managed, guilt evident in his downcast eyes.

She didn't respond, not liking where this was going, silently accusing him from across the room.

"Want a drink or something?" he offered casually as he stood up, already half way out the door, already leaving her.

She shrugged, staring hard at the carpeted floor in front of her feet. She heard his footsteps quickly retreating into the hallway as she was left alone in his room. She had come here looking for some answers but so far she was only left with more questions. She became aware that someone had entered the room, interrupting her downwards spiral. She recognised him as Rich, Jackson's roommate, part of George's perfect posse. He swung into the room, grabbing some clothes out of the dresser in the corner next to her. He didn't seem surprised to see her there, as if girls were always just waiting in their room.

"So, you and Avery, huh?" he stated, not stopping to look at her as he rifled through drawers.

She didn't respond, her heart threatening to push her pain into her throat.

"It's like I always tell him, you know" he rattled on, not bothering to wait for a response. "It's the quiet ones you have to look out for. They look all sweetness and light, and then, suddenly they are all over you, desperate to stick your cock in their mouths, you know?"

He turned to face her, big sleazy grin on his face. April was too shocked at his words to even attempt a reply.

"So, how about it?" he said, stepping in closer to her. "Avery tells me you give great head, so how about you ditch his tired ass and give me a spin?"

She was already out of the door before he could finish his sentence, prompting him to yell out his last insulting words. Several of the boys in the hallway had heard their exchange and were snickering loudly as she desperately hurried out of the building, brushing past Jackson carrying two cans of coke in his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I know you're all dying to find out what Jackson is thinking in all this, but isn't it all part of the teen angst to never know what that boy is thinking about? To me Jackson is a really immature and insecure boy here, still a lot of growing up to do. I always find that boys seem to be so much more emotionally unevolved at that age compared to girls, who are much better at recognising their own feelings, though perhaps naively overstating them.**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this. I'm destroying a good thing here so I can put it back together better for you. **

**Let me know your thoughts!**

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April raced back to her room, still reeling from Rich's comments. _What the actual fuck? _Why was blow jobs suddenly on the table here? She was not even 15 yet for Christ' sake, she was not thinking about that shit just yet, but now Jackson was telling his friends that she was doing these things to him, telling them she was _great _at it? She felt sick to her stomach, sick that he would dare share intimate details about her to his stupid fucking friends, that he would actually lie about what transpired between them, cheapening their relationship in one fell swoop. She halted suddenly. _Relationship? What relationship? _In her anger at Rich's crass comments she had briefly forgotten how Jackson had behaved towards her, cold, indifferent, and worst of all... embarrassed. She stopped dead in her tracks, all her breath suddenly knocked out of her and she bent forward trying desperately to catch her breath. It wouldn't come. She tried to persuade her brain to breathe for her, pleading to let air fill her lungs again, panic setting in as it would not. Her throat constricted, her lungs searing with pain as they screamed out for oxygen. She gasped sharply in a high-pitched noise, stifled sobs escaping as she gulped for air. She inhaled sharply, her breathing laboured, her vision blurred. She stayed crouched over for a long while, oblivious to her surroundings. Her feet were frozen to the ground, still heaving for air, when strong hands found her and forced her to stand up and move.

She was suddenly back in her room and aware of her surroundings again, but still unable to form words or breathe normally. George had found her and brought her back, not asking her any questions, knowing she would not be able to answer. She simply placed April on her own bed, removed her shoes and coat, made her drink a glass of water and put her to bed. She felt numb, disorientated. _What the hell just happened? _She waited for George to fall asleep, for the dorm to go quiet before letting herself cry. She cried silently, falling apart at the seams, hot, fat tears rolling from her eyes, soaking her pillow. She moaned without making a noise, her stomach contracting with each silent howl. Her whole body hurt, it hurt so fucking much. The pain was deep, shaking her soul on the inside, irreparably shredding her heart. How could there be this much pain without any physical harm? She wanted it to end, nothingness would be better than this. She hoped for sleep, but it would not find her. She never told anyone how much she cried that night.

Morning came, but she did not welcome it. She tried to make her body move, aware that George was watching her closely. She gingerly stepped out of her bed, wincing in pain as she stood up. She felt as if she had broken her ribs. With every breath her chest screamed out in protest.

"You need to stay in bed today" George ordered, still not asking her any questions.

She nodded slowly, accepting her limitations. When everyone else had left for classes, she went into the showers and cried until the water ran cold.

Hannah came to see her at lunchtime, clearly concerned for her friend.

"Can you tell me what happened?" she carefully asked, searching her eyes for answers.

April merely shook her head sadly, not knowing where to begin, or even if she had the right to hurt as much as she did.

"What did Jackson do to you?" she whispered into her ear, pulling her head down to rest on her shoulder, sweetly stroking her back.

And that unravelled her, understanding that her best friend had known the source of her upset all along. So she confessed the whole sad story to Hannah, she told her about their meetings, the intensity, the unspoken secrecy, the lies and finally the pain. As she recounted every last detail of the affair out loud for the first time, she realised he had been rejecting her all along. Every minute she had spent with him she had been losing him, piece by piece. She never really had him at all, it had been over before it had even began. And that broke her heart all over again.

That night she cried silently again, while everyone was sleeping around her. She wanted to scream to let her pain out, but instead she was holding her breath, clutching her stomach to silence herself, her scream stuck in her throat. She struggled to breathe, knowing that he wouldn't come see her the next day nor the day after. Instinctively she knew that he would offer no explanation, no sliver of hope for her to cling to. This day had been so damn hard, but she also knew tomorrow would be harder. She realised this was only going to get worse, and with a sinking feeling she understood she was not going to be ok for a long time.

The next day she got up early, showered and did her hair in a high pony tail. She ignored the sharp pain in the pit of her stomach, moved slowly but with deliberate movements, readying herself for today's classes. As she faced her reflection in the mirror she was surprised at how normal she looked, how there was no sign of her broken insides from the outside. She was a little pale maybe, her eyes faintly swollen, but other than that no one who didn't know her really well could tell she was not ok. She arranged her face into a half smile, knowing that it would not reach her eyes.

George hovered around her, shielding her from her fellow classmates, some of whom stole curious glances at her. More than once she shot daggers at girls whispering as they passed the odd couple in the hallways. It was too much for April to process in her current state, but she was thankful she didn't have to walk those corridors alone. She managed to keep her composure in her classes, welcoming the distraction from her ripping heart and her crowded mind. As she walked out of her last class for the day George was there again, escorting her back to her room.

"You should know that no one believes a word Rich says", George said quietly, breaking their silence for the first time that day.

April had to take a deep breath before speaking, knowing she was close to crying.

"D-did Jackson tell you to say that?" she forced out.

"No", her voice halting, filled with apology. "No, I just know what he's like, he's always saying shit like that to people, trying to provoke them or whatever."

Her heart, briefly buoyed with hope that Jackson had tried to make things right somehow, sank back down. _Of course he hadn't._

"Does everyone know?"

"Know about what Rich said or about you and Jackson?"

"Both."

"Yeah", she admitted. And finally after a long pause, "and yeah."

April nodded slowly, shoulders tense and back rigid, her eyes blank, half-smile still plastered to her face.

"Fucking asshole", Hannah exclaimed, having slipped into the room without April noticing. Hannah clenched her fists tightly, her whole body betraying the anger she felt, though her voice was calm.

"Come on, we're going to dinner" she urged them, her tone cool and ominous.

George came to dinner with them, April vaguely aware that this new social setting was peculiar. She didn't question it, her mind wandering as she picked at her dressing-less salad. They passed the meal in silence, neither of her companions eager to unsettle April. She was suddenly aware that the two of them had started some silent, frantic conversation between them, eyebrows raised, hands gesturing. Realising she had noticed, Hannah straightened her back and regained her cool composure.

"What I don't understand", Hannah began, voice calm but overly loud, enunciating her words. "Is how someone can lie so much and not even feel bad about it."

April quickly realised who Hannah's words had been to the benefit of as Jackson hurried past their table, his eyes catching hers in horror for a fraction of a second. As soon as she was sure the coast was clear, she made her excuses and headed for her dorm, leaving George and Hannah to continue their wordless dialogue. She needed to be alone so she could cry without being judged, so she could be miserable without bringing anyone else down with her. The following days passed in the same vein. Anguish, composure, numbness. Panic. Pain. Panic if she spotted him somewhere in a crowd. Pain if she didn't.

Days later she was called in to see her tutor, exam results ready for dissection. Mr Hall was a terrifying, middle-aged former athletics director, usually found roaming around campus screaming at the younger boys to tuck their shirts in or for skittish girls to stop dallying about and hurry back to class. April found she could tolerate him quite easily, her shirt never untucked and not one for dallying much.

"Miss Kepner, I'm afraid I'm at a loss with you", he boomed, furrowing his thick brow as he scanned over her report card.

"See for yourself."

April grabbed the thin sheet of paper offered to her, scanning them for the source of Mr Hall's displeasure. _Crap! C+ in chemistry? No, no, no!_ She stared at the paper in disbelief, realising what this meant.

"It's not like you", Mr Hall continued. "You've been getting great marks all year, how did this happen?"

April gaped at him, no excuses forthcoming.

"Look, you've been unfocused since the mid-term holidays, you've not been yourself, I can see that."

He scrutinised her face, waiting for her explanation.

"Mr Hall, I'm so sorry, I know I can do better" she shook her head, voice pleading.

"I am well aware of that, Miss Kepner", he said, softening. "That's why this is so frustrating. Look, I know something or someone has been distracting you, but you have to snap out of it and start to focus, ok?"

He nodded his head at her, forcing her to nod back.

"Ok, so I'm willing to give you a second chance here since it's your first semester and all, but I need you to understand how serious this is. If you let your grades slip again, you will lose your scholarship. Understood?"

She nodded hard and thanked him profusely before exiting his office, shook to the core. She had to get past this, she had to find her way back.

As she turned the corner she found herself facing Jackson, with no obvious escape route. She swallowed hard, bracing herself for the confrontation she had yearned for but hoped to avoid.

He spoke first, exhaling her name, eyes pleading with her. He went to move towards her, but halted as he saw her back away from him with a start.

"I'm sorry, ok?" he simply said, hands raised in an attempt not to startle her again.

She swallowed hard, arms crossed to shield her body, legs slightly apart to find firm ground beneath her.

"Don't be." She was surprised at her own voice, so cold, so foreign.

"I trusted you. That was my mistake, not yours."

And with that she brushed past him, not looking back, her heart tearing a little more as the distance dragged out between them.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: sorry to leave you hanging, I know I was spoiling you with my crazy times updates. It's gonna be trickier for me to keep up the pace now, but I'm doing my best, was writing this on the plane...**

**Found this chapter a bit hard to write, not quite sure where I was going to take this before I started. Hope you like:)**

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Sophomore year came round quickly. The remainder of her freshman year had passed her by in a numb haze, mainly spent hunkering down over her books and making up for lost time. She had taken to running to help re-focus her brain, surprising herself by sticking to it. Her grades had improved, though she expected Mr Hall was secretly more impressed with her for her nightly runs. She had persuaded Hannah to go with her once, but she had got shin splints after half an hour and has subsequently threatened to divorce April if she ever suggested it again. She had settled into an effortless, easy friendship with George, the two of them even opting to stay in their small double room for sophomore year. George's friends accepted her and Hannah into their little group after a short period of awkwardness, all of them usually meeting up for lunch. She no longer found the perfect posse so perfect after getting to know them a bit, all of them revealing some insecurities or flaws of their own, making her more accepting of her own. Occasionally, the boys would join them at their table, and she would sit opposite Rich smiling sweetly whilst imagining lunging across the table and stabbing him in the eye with a fork. Worse were the times Jackson would sit down, forcing them to studiously ignore each other, everyone else pretending the awkwardness wasn't hanging over them like a dark cloud, tension so thick it left them all exhausted afterwards. She found it easier to pretend she didn't care than to admit his presence was killing her. Eventually she did care less, her physical pain eased, her mind no longer eager to return to thoughts of him. Eventually he stopped being the most important thing in her life.

Her second year was easier, her new group of friends making her blend in to school life more smoothly. Her classmates got used to her eagerness to answer teachers' questions, her ramblings in class, her sometimes too-perky attempts at conversation. She felt accepted, her confidence growing as the year progressed. The whispers that had started after her post-Jackson melt down had died down quickly, people moving on to juicier gossip after a while. She would still hear his name on other girls lips, eyes shining bright with infatuation as they cooed to their friends, giggling loudly, fluttering their lashes. She would mostly ignore them, suppressing pangs of sharp pain.

October chill was already settling into the old brick buildings at Hartwell as April was walking back from the library one night with Hannah.

"That guy Ed is always following you around," she half-whispered, gesturing behind them.

April quickly glanced back at the tall, lanky boy ambling a few steps behind them. Noticing her eyes on him he quickly scurried away in the opposite direction, causing Hannah to giggle loudly.

"Oh no, poor puppy, you scared him off!"

April shook her head at Hannah, trying to suppress her own giggles.

"He's cute though..." Hannah said, implication thick in her voice, willing her to move on.

"I guess," she shrugged.

She started hanging out with Ed after that, a softly spoken boy from her physics class. He was awkward, unable to control his long body, but sweet and funny. He had trouble sitting still, constantly vibrating with nervous energy. He was popular with the other boys for his searing impressions of the faculty, and he was constantly in trouble for boyish pranks. He had wrapped another boy's room in newspaper, covering every inch of the room, wrapping up every pencil, every book, even every pin in the cork board and the posters they were holding up. He had snuck into the staff room before break and stolen all the doughnuts, handing them out to his dorm buddies like he was Robin Hood giving to the poor. He'd smuggled in a pellet gun which had caused great excitement for about two hours before it had been confiscated, he'd shaved the head of one of the younger boys once, giving him a Britney Spears with a comb over. He'd been suspended for a week after breaking into the dining hall one night and painting in big red letters "_Food, glorious food!_" along one wall. He was full of confidence and bravado around the other boys, but April made him nervous, unsure of himself. At first she found him refreshing, full of energy and always making her laugh. Hannah was excited for her, encouraging her to see where it might lead. She slowly caved, letting him in little by little, silently aware that he was more invested than her.

She was confounded by the way he looked at her, the compliments he gave her. Still not comfortable in her own skin, she couldn't fathom his infatuation with her. He told her that her hair was beautiful, her eyes amazing, her body stunning, and it all sounded like exaggerations to her. She'd managed to steal some tricks from George and her posse on taming her hair, so granted her hair was more polished these days. Her eyes were the same as they always had been, and her body too she figured. But he insisted, and she could see honest admiration in his expression. She scrutinised her reflection in the bathroom mirrors before going to bed at night, and noticed little changes she hadn't before. Her body had grown softer over the summer holidays, and possibly a little longer too. Her hips were a little wider, more rounded. Her breasts too, perkier than before and definitely bigger. Her legs stronger and leaner from all the running, even her arms were more toned. She blushed at the thought that Ed had been staring so intently at her, eyes roaming all over her body. She still didn't trust his assurances.

She had been close to Ed for a few months before she eventually made up her mind. He was so sweet with her, open about his feelings for her and it was clear he wanted her to return them. Occasionally she'd hear Jackson's name mentioned in connection with other girls, and recently the same name had come up more and more frequently. It seemed he was going out with Nikki, a short, cute, dark-haired girl in the year above. She tried not to dwell on it, not allowing herself to feel more than she should. Jackson had never been hers in the first place, she felt like she wasn't entitled to be upset about it. There really was no reason for her to keep Ed at arm's length any more. When they met up that night she finally told him she was ready, and he had been so happy, swooping her into his arms, hugging her tightly before tentatively kissing her. She had kissed him back, but as she struggled to fall asleep that night she had realised it had been a mistake. No matter how hard she tried to like him as much as he liked her it just didn't quite feel right. She couldn't help comparing that kiss to all the kisses she'd had before. Where Ed's kisses had been sweet and soft, Jackson's had been consuming and hungry. Ed's arms had been long and thin, holding her gingerly, Jackson's hard and strong, his whole body embracing hers, meeting her at every point. Ed had left her feeling giddy, thrilled that he had been so happy to finally be with her. Jackson had left her feeling...everything. Unable to move, breathe or think in his presence, she knew that what she had felt for Jackson had run so much deeper. She would always be comparing Ed to Jackson, and it wasn't fair on Ed.

The next day she braced herself and told Ed that she had changed her mind. She was surprised at the intensity of his emotions, his face falling right before her eyes. His disappointment in her was clear, and she almost changed her mind again when she saw how heartbroken he was. She desperately wanted him to be happy, but she could see that she would not be able to fix this.

"You've literally ripped out my heart and stomped on it," he despaired, reminding her of the violence of her own feelings a year back.

She tried to make it up to him, assuring him they would still be friends, that she still cared for him, but she knew it was futile. She cursed herself for inflicting that kind of pain on another person, she knew exactly how he felt.

A week later Ed was still avoiding her and she was still miserable about the whole thing, guilt-ridden and concerned about him. She slumped down at the dinner table next to George, rubbing her forehead.

"I just down know what else I can do, you know?" sighing in frustration.

"Look, all you can do is say sorry. The rest is going to take time, that's all," she comforted.

Just then a group of boys joined them at the table, including two of her least favourite meal companions, Rich and Jackson. She rolled her eyes discreetly at George and left their conversation dead. She tried to finish her dinner as quickly as possible so she could escape the tense moment, she wasn't in the mood for this today.

"So I heard you ditched Ed, Kepner?" Rich started, shooting her a look of disgust. When she didn't reply he continued.

"That was a little harsh, don't you think? The guy's heartbroken" he continued, gulping down big bites as he spoke.

"Hey, Rich, remember when I asked your opinion?", she snapped. "Yeah, me neither."

She could hear George and the other girls snickering next to her as Rich's face dropped. Next to him Jackson was quietly grinning to himself. But Rich wasn't done with her yet.

"Ed's a good guy, you know" he carried on, undeterred by the fact that April had now stood up, ready to leave, her dinner still half-finished.

"He deserves better than you leading him on for months and then dropping him like it's nothing."

He was set to continue his tirade until a heavy hand landed on his arm, cautioning him to stop.

"Leave it, Rich," Jackson warned him quietly.

She couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Later, April set out on her usual run around campus, eager to focus her mind on something other than her nagging guilt. Rich's words had stuck with her, still ringing in her ears, so she ran a little farther and a little harder than normal, feet thudding on the asphalt, dim street lights barely lighting her path. She felt her hamstring stretch and snap in the back of her thigh, halting her pace before the subsequent shooting pain forced her to stop. She grabbed her leg, soothing it by rubbing small circles down the back. Looking around for a place to stretch she came face to face with Jackson. She went to move past him, her mind now programmed to ignore. Suddenly he blocked her path, towering above her, eyes glaring at her. He'd grown over the course of the year, frame wider, shoulders broader, several inches taller, making it impossible for her to slip past.

"What?" she huffed impatiently, refusing to meet his eyes.

He remained motionless, still blocking her, eyes burning into her. She grew increasingly frustrated with him, placing her hands on her hips in defiance, exhaling as she realised he would not let her pass until she faced him. She finally met his gaze, motioning at him to speak. He still said nothing, eyes searching hers, expressing some unnamed emotion at her. He leaned in, carefully grabbing a long lock of her fiery red hair that had escaped her ruffled, sweaty pony tail. Her eyes narrowed before she swiftly and viciously slapped his hand away.

"What do you want, Jackson?" her tone a little angrier now.

He hesitated before he spoke, clearly set back by her sudden violence.

"I fucking miss you, ok?" he blurted out, face filled with intent.

She recoiled at his words, backing away from him.

"You're an asshole" she spat at him, before turning on her heel and walking the long way way to her dorm, clutching her aching thigh all the way.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for the wait my dears, had to go away for a while. Thanks for all your reviews and continued support, it keeps me going! As always, let me know what you think!**

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Angry and confused she limped back to her room needing to talk to someone, but George wasn't there. She found herself pacing around the small space they shared, not wanting to sit down in case she drowned in her own thoughts. She needed someone else's perspective on this, she wasn't sure she could trust herself to see this situation clearly on her own. Curfew had already passed 10 minutes ago and George still wasn't back. Groaning in frustration she fell back on her bed, kicking off her shoes and hiding her face in her hands, feeling like her head was about to explode. Finally George returned, flushed and happy, oblivious to her roommate's inner turmoil.

"Where have you been?!" she shrieked, jumping up from the bed. George jumped about ten feet up in the air, startled by April's sudden movement.

"Jesus, what's up with you?" she retorted, clutching her chest as she exhaled deeply and let her shoulders down.

"Jackson told me he misses me!" she blurted out, eyes wide.

"He what now?" George looked every bit as confused as April felt.

"Well, you're not going back to him, clearly," George decided. "Are you..?" she asked incredulously when April didn't speak.

"N-no, that would be stupid, right?" she hesitated, looking to George for confirmation.

"Apes, he completely destroyed you last year. Don't forget that," George warned.

"I haven't..." she faltered, voice barely audible. She stared down at her bare feet, mind churning, her heart stuck in her throat. "I hate him."

"Yeah, I can see that," George sneered, voice laced with sarcasm, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"No, I do. I really do," she said, this time with more conviction. "I hate him for hurting me, I hate him for leading me on, and mostly I hate him for making me feel like I made the whole thing up in my head" she continued, voice more fierce with every word. "But I still miss him" she groaned, bowing her head in her hands. "And I hate that even more."

George gave her a sad smile and a long hug, before ordering her to bed with a final warning.

"Just be careful, Apes."

After a night of fitful sleep, April woke up more conflicted than ever. She was stuck somewhere in between remembering and forgetting, remembering how good she had felt when she had been with him and trying to forget how bad she had felt when she wasn't. Her brain was fighting her heart, an internal war raging inside her even as she slept. She needed more perspective and had caught up with Hannah at breakfast, but she had been angry at her for even entertaining the idea of forgiving Jackson. She had blankly refused to discuss it further with her, shaking her head in disappointment.

She had wanted to catch George alone again after lunch, but she had been nowhere in sight until she caught a glimpse of her disappearing behind one of the dorm buildings, blonde hair floating behind her. She was not alone, being dragged along by Tom, the stocky blonde who had clearly been in love with George since they had been kids. George looked happy, cheeks flushed and giggling away, eyes gleaming. The glances exchanged between them were unmistakable, eyes filled with natural intimacy and affection, want and longing. April suddenly felt like the worst friend in the world, not having noticed that her roommate, whom she spent ninety percent of her waking hours with, was in love.

After George and Tom officially became a couple it became impossible for her to avoid Jackson. Tom was one of his closest friends, George one of hers, so practically every meal was spent in his company. George also dragged her along to every important varsity game, all which Tom and Jackson seemed to be participating in. He was everywhere, all the time. And he refused to leave her alone, silently imploring her, eyes begging for forgiveness at every opportunity. For the first time since she arrived at Hartwell she wished she wasn't living at school, that she had a home away from campus that she could escape to, that every hour of every day wasn't spent in the company of her friends.

He finally cornered her after dinner one night, holding her back from their group of friends. She had run out of excuses, knowing that they would have to talk sooner or later. She eyed him warily, not sure if she would be able to let her brain stay in control for that much longer.

"April..." he whispered, voice strangled. "Please just talk to me."

"I don't know what to say," she responded truthfully. She had no idea how to even begin talking to him honestly, there hadn't been that much talking the first time around.

"I miss you, April" he started."It's crazy how we've gone months and months without talking but you're still on my mind every day."

Something was welling up inside her, making its way out despite herself.

"I just don't get how you can suddenly wake up one day and decide to never talk to me again," she retorted, voice calm but heart thumping hard in her chest. "No reason. No explanation. No words. Just leaving me hanging like I never meant shit to you. It's kinda messed up."

"I know," he winced, voice hoarse and unsteady. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I was an asshole to you, I know that."

She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to cry, wrapping her arms around her body like an armour. He took a step closer to her, running his hand over his shaved head in frustration.

"You caught me by surprise, that's all." His voice was soft, those bluish-green eyes gleaming at her. "I knew from the moment we started talking that I wanted you around, but I never thought I'd like you this much, and I never planned to have you on my mind this often. It was too intense, I got scared."

"What do you want from me?" she challenged him.

"I want you, April" he said softly, eyes holding hers.

It was everything she had wanted to hear, yet it wasn't.

"I'm still broken, Jackson. Even having this conversation with you is bringing back memories I've tried hard to forget." It was becoming too much for her, not just struggling with her own emotions but also taking in his. His neck was hunched, despondent look on his face. "I can't give you any more right now," she finished, slowly backing away from him, needing to be out of his reach. His eyes fell to he floor, and she couldn't bear looking at him any more. She swiftly turned and walked away.

She was alone in her room, grateful that George was too distracted by her boyfriend to notice she had stayed behind to talk to Jackson. She felt like crying, but no tears came. She sat on her bed, exhausted by the tension between them. He had said all the right words, exposed himself to her, but somehow it wasn't enough. A piece of the puzzle was missing, she couldn't add it all up in her head. She fell asleep on top of her bed, still fully clothed, her mind churning away as she drifted off.

Over the next couple of days she avoided her friends so she wouldn't have to bump into Jackson, opting to live off dry toast she pinched from the dining hall instead of joining them for meals. She buried herself in her books or went for longer and longer runs in the evenings. At first it was easy to avoid George, as she was caught up in her relationship, but eventually she and Hannah caught on to her and cornered her in the library.

"Tell us", Hannah commanded, voice hushed but insistent.

"No," she moaned. "You're just going to be all angry and judgmental and stuff. I can't handle it right now."

"I won't, I promise," Hannah swore, eyes wide with innocence. "Is this about him?"

She frowned as April nodded in confirmation.

"I promise I won't call him a douche or a pussy for, like, 10 whole minutes."

"Oh, ok then," she laughed briefly. She paused for a minute to gather her thoughts. "He said he misses me and that he's sorry for being an asshole."

Both her friends were looking at her hesitantly, dying to speak their minds but not wanting to upset her. She already knew Hannah thought this was a bad idea, she had been angrier at Jackson than she had been herself. George was more difficult to read, she had known Jackson for years and remained friends with him.

"Well?" She was asking them both.

"Isn't he supposed to be going out with Nikki?" Hannah suddenly remembered, annoyed that no one else had seemed to think that was an important detail.

"He finished with her like three minutes after he heard April had broken up with Ed," George informed them plainly.

They both gaped at George, wondering why this information was just coming out now. George simply shrugged her shoulders in response.

"He made such a big fucking mess of this, Apes, I wasn't about to encourage either of you back down this road."

April gulped, aware that both her friends were rooting against Jackson. Somehow she felt that it meant they were rooting against her as well.

Hannah was clearly processing hard, carefully selecting her next words. "Do you miss him?"

"Of course I do," she admitted. "I keep telling myself that I'm over him, I pretend to other people that I am, truth is I'm really, really not."

Hannah nodded sadly and sighed, defeated look in her eyes. "What's stopping you then?"

"He made me fall for him so fast the last time," she began, struggling to explain her feelings, to find the right words. "He was the reason I woke up smiling in the morning, then all of a sudden he was the reason I went to sleep crying."

She hesitated for a moment, searching her brain and her heart for the words to make them understand.

"I'm scared he's going to make me fall harder and hurt me worse."

"He probably will," Hannah huffed.

George kicked her hard under the table, making her yelp. April rolled her eyes as several of other students eyed them curiously.

"Get back to your fucking books, retards!" George snapped, several freshmen jumping in their seats and hurriedly turning their attention away from them again.

"You two are seriously helpful," she sighed, getting up to leave.

The next day George made her come to all her meals, ditching Tom to sit with just her and Hannah. She could feel Jackson's eyes on her the whole time, but refused to look up to meet his gaze. She rushed out of the dining hall when she finished, walked the long way back to her dorm so she wouldn't run into him, and strayed off her normal route as she went out for a long run that night. Music blaring into her ears she pushed herself hard, willing all thoughts of him to leave her brain for just a little while. It was exhausting thinking about him, so she pushed him away, mindlessly pounding the pavement. After a while she was out of breath and had to sit down to rest, choosing a bench looking out onto the lake that bordered the hockey field. She flopped down, catching her breath, thoughts quickly returning to Jackson. She sat still for a while, trying to make sense of the chaos in her head. Head ear buds still in, she jumped as someone sat down next to her. First she was relieved, then worried as Ed joined her.

"How are you?" she asked cautiously as she removed her ear buds.

"Oh, you know. Heartbroken and miserable," he tried to joke, but it came out more sad than funny.

"I'm really sorry, Ed." She had almost forgotten to feel guilty over the past few weeks, but now it was coming back with a vengeance. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"If I'd known you would, I probably would have fallen for you anyway," he smiled sadly. "At least I know what it feels like to be in love with someone amazing. And I know that it's going to be even better when someone wants me like that back."

She looked at him with a newfound clarity, his words hitting her, slowly sinking in.

"I hope we can be friends one day," she smiled, before getting up and continuing her run.

Ed's words had resonated with her, unlocking the final piece of the puzzle she had been searching for. She was afraid to start up with Jackson again, but maybe she shouldn't let that stop her. Perhaps he would break her heart again, but he might also help her put all her broken pieces back together. She realized that it was ok to let herself feel too much, that being scared was part of being human. She needed to let her self live again, to let herself experience pain but also open herself up to happiness. _Be afraid, but do it anyway._

She found him in their old haunt at the tennis pavilion, knowing he'd be looking for her there. She could tell he already knew she was returning to him. He approached her hesitantly, waiting for her to speak, to start this on her terms.

"I've missed you too, Jackson." She stepped closer to him, carefully placing her arms around his waist, holding him so she could look him in the eye.

He let his breath out, relief washing over his face. He grabbed her waist gently, mimicking her hold on him. His eyes searched hers, looking for confirmation.

"I want you, April" he repeated earnestly. "Are you sure you are brave enough to want me back?"

She couldn't bear to be apart from him any longer, she moved closer into him, gazing at his lips, then into his eyes. Their bodies melted together, mouths reuniting. She was aching for him, starved of his kisses, so she tasted him, inhaled him, absorbed him. She pulled back briefly, staring into his mesmerizing eyes.

"If anyone is going to break my heart, I want it to be you."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Trying to get some updates in before I go away again, but had a run-in with a mechanical bull (No, I'm serious) and have managed to sprain my wrist. It's kind of ridiculous. So I'm a bit slow, but hope you guys still stick with me, it's about to get interesting.**

**Someone asked me to keep the angst coming, and I can promise you I will never shy away from the angst. Love that shit ;) Let me know what you think?**

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It was easy going back to Jackson, and it wasn't. It felt familiar, comfortable in some ways, in other ways it felt awkward and scary. Being alone with him was the most natural thing in the world, the two of them finely tuned to each other. Hands meeting bodies, mouths meeting mouths. Being with him around other people was harder, less fluent. They were in some ways still getting to know each other and not ready to share how they fit together with the world. Holding his hand walking through campus, she sometimes held her breath as if someone would come tear them away from each other any second. She hadn't been prepared for other people's reaction to seeing them together, naïvely thinking most of her fellow students would have no opinion at all. She saw the stares and heard the whispers from girls both younger and older than her. _What is she doing with someone like him?_ He was still the most popular guy in school, she was still a dork and a scholarship kid. He noticed too, careful to grab her hand a little tighter and hold her a little closer.

Her friends were skeptical, finding it hard to trust Jackson's sincerity or her judgement. Hannah was pissed at first, but swiftly chose to keep her mouth shut once she realised it upset April. George had been happy for her, but had told her to be careful. There was little to make her feel good about her new relationship besides him. Jackson also felt the weight of her friends judgement on him and worked hard to assure her, still convincing her even though he already had her.

She stepped out of the library only to be swept up in this strong arms. He pressed her tightly to his chest, as she giggled into his neck. She was relieved and elated to finally have him to herself, to simply be in his presence. Being with him was a wonderous escape from the opinions of others and the stresses of keeping up with her school work. He grabbed her waist and pulled her close as they walked over to the tennis pavilion, still one of their favourite haunts. His mouth found hers almost immediately, hands pulling her hair gently, claiming her. Her lips were burning, raw from rubbing against his, her breath shallow, too preoccupied with him to inhale deeply. He pulled away from her, closing his eyes and kissing her forehead softly. She finally took a deep breath and stilled against him, taking him in.

"I missed you today," he sighed, drawing her in.

"You saw me after chemistry, at lunch, again after biology and at dinner," she replied, laughing quietly.

"I still missed you," he mumbled into her hair, peppering her neck with small kisses.

She knew what he meant, it was like they weren't fully together if they weren't alone. He pulled back slightly, brushing a stray curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"You gonna come see my game on friday night?"

"What, so I can watch half the female population at Hartwell drool over you running after a ball?" she rolled her eyes at him in amusement. "I don't think so."

"Ah, come on..." he smiled, eyes glinting. "The guys will be drooling too."

She giggled, squirming in his arms.

"It's the last game of the season," he moaned, insisting that she come.

"Fine. George will probably drag me along anyway," she sighed, relenting. "What are you gonna do with yourself after the season has finished?," she teased, knowing he was a sports junkie.

"I'll think of something. Think I've got a good shot at the lacrosse team this year," he pondered out loud.

"Isn't that like dangerous?" she grimaced. "Aren't you scared they'll mess up your face?"

"That stuff doesn't scare me," he laughed. "Five missed calls from my mom scares me."

"You're such a jock," she sighed, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

"And you're such a geek," he smirked, mirroring her expression.

She giggled softly, moving into him again, pressing her face into his chest.

"Don't worry about those other girls, ok?" he said quietly into her hair after a while. He didn't expand further, just pressed her tightly into his chest and held her in silence.

The following Friday April reluctantly turned up at the final basketball game of the season, there was some sort of tournament she gathered, though she wasn't too sure what was going on. She wasn't into sports at all, but she had not been able to withstand both George and Jackson, so dutifully filled into one of the back rows after George a few minutes into the game. She'd been dragged along to games before, but this one was different, the crowd much bigger and the excitement more palpable. She immediately spotted Jackson, sprinting up and down the court, deeply focused on the game. He moved gracefully, swerving to avoid his opponents, feet slamming and skidding across the hardwood floor. She was fascinated by him, taking in his tall, muscular physique. She realised she was not the only one, all around her eyes were focused on her boyfriend, who seemed to move a little bit faster and jump a little higher than anyone else on the court, as he scored point after point. By the fourth quarter Hartwell was up by six points, but it was tight, the atmosphere in the court tense. The shouting quieted down, and suddenly she was aware that a group of girls two rows in front of her were talking about her and Jackson.

"God, look at him," one fawned. "He's so goddamn hot!"

"I know", another joined in. "I can't believe he dumped Nikki for that skinny, red-haired geek, I mean, what the fuck?"

April's cheeks flushed red, ears burning as she realised where the conversation was going. Next to her George was cheering on Tom, oblivious to the exchange happening in front of her.

"What is up with this school lately?" the first one continued, blonde curls shaking as she spoke. "I mean, where did popular even come from, like she hangs out with some girls and three people look at her and suddenly she is popular and now he wants her? Why? How does that even happen?"

"I know!" a third girl joined in, incredulously. "Have you seen her shoes? Like that shit is so tacky it pisses me off. Fucking don't wear that shit around me, I'll straight up tell you I think it's tacky as fuck. Like, learn some common fucking sense, you know?"

April looked down on her well-worn trainers not quite comprehending what was wrong with them other than they seemed to be unworthy of belonging to the girlfriend of the hottest guy in school. Her heart sank, wanting to be out of there but not wanting to make a scene.

"Yeah, it literally makes no sense that he broke up with you for her," the first girl sighed, turning towards a fourth member of their gang, April just now realising the girls were Nikki's friends.

"Hmm.. He was all 'I really need some time to myself, to be single,' " Nikki started, mimicking Jackson's voice. " '...oh never mind, I'm gonna go be with this creepy, obsessive weirdo instead.' "

They all hysterically giggled, marvelling at their own wit, as April's head dropped into her hands.

"You ok, Apes?" George asked, creasing her eyebrows.

"Yep," she inhaled deeply, pulling herself up, forcing herself to focus on the game in front of her, eyes searching for Jackson.

She spotted him straightaway through the crowd, frantically moving across the floor. The score was now even, with less than a minute to go. She could see him focusing on the backboard, gliding towards it, shifting his hips to ward off the opposing defender. Someone passed him the ball, but the pass was long and high. She could see him push away from the floor, leaping upwards, his head now even with the rim of the hoop. He snagged the ball just as it was about to hit the backboard and drove the ball with all his might through the net, the ball bouncing against the floor a moment before his feet followed. A fraction of a second later the board buzzed, announcing that Hartwell had won, the crowd erupting in a loud roar. Jackson's teammates surrounded him, grabbing and hugging, cheering loudly as the crowd moved onto the court. Everyone was elated, but April was frozen in her spot, arms folded in front of her chest, cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly he was in front of her, eyes trying to meet her gaze, but she avoided them. He pulled strong arms around her in a tight embrace.

"April, are you ok?"

She tilted her head and gave him a tight smile, before opening her arms and wrapping them around him.

"Congratulations, you were amazing," she said, deflecting his question with a soft kiss.

All around them, people were clamouring for his attention, slapping his back, calling his name, but he was still staring at her, trying to figure her out. His teammates came up behind him, pulling at his shirt.

"Look, I've got to go," he apologised, reaching out for her as he was pulled away.

"It's ok, I'll see you later," she dismissed him, wiping away a tear from her eye as soon as he turned away.

She went back to her room, trying to brush off the bitchy comments that still lingered in her head. She tried to tell herself it was just jealousy, but it was hard when everything they had said resonated with her deepest insecurities about herself. Deep down she was still struggling to find the reason why Jackson had chosen her in the first place. She couldn't sit still and let her mind stew so she busied herself. She pulled out all her shoes from her wardrobe and inspected the sad little collection. The scuffed up pair of school shoes and some battered old converse she'd had for ages were allowed to stay, as were her newish running shoes that her parents had got her for Christmas. A pair of hand-me-down boots from George were also saved, as April longingly stared at the neat rows of beautiful shoes at the bottom of her roommate's wardrobe. As her eyes returned to the scruffy pile in front of her, she sighed and gathered them all in her arms and chucked them in the wastepaper basket under her desk. She was just crawling out from under her desk as Jackson walked into her room.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, just getting rid of some old shoes," she mumbled, straightening herself.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" he asked carefully, settling down on her bed.

She sighed, preparing herself. She wedged open the door to her room, so they wouldn't get in trouble and jumped up on the bed next to him.

"I just overheard some girls talking about us at the game," she muttered, refusing to look him in the eye.

"What did they say?" he probed, his tone a little harsher.

"Just stuff," she said, looking at her legs and her beat up trainers. "Nothing I haven't heard before."

"Hey," he whispered, grabbing her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You're beautiful, ok? And I'm lucky to have you." His eyes were boring into hers, holding her gaze steadily, unwavering.

She shrugged, casting down her eyes, still not convinced.

"I just never got why you want to be with me," she said quietly, exposing herself to him.

"I like that you are you," he started, lifting her chin again, making her face him. "I like that you have a few good friends and that you don't need anyone else. I like that you talk too much and laugh at your own jokes. I like that you are nice to everyone you meet, even if you don't have to be. I like that you didn't give up on me." He paused for a moment, gently grabbing the side of her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb. "April, you're pretty much my most favourite person ever."

He kissed her sweetly, chastely because they weren't supposed to be kissing in her room, it was against the open door policy, but at that moment she needed him to. As she looked into his eyes, filled with sincerity, her insecurities melted away. His words and his touch starved her fears, and she felt him tearing down her walls, brick by brick.

"I want you to trust me, April," he mumbled, pulling away from her. The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine, soft on the A, almost whispered, making it sound more special than anyone else could. "I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but it's gonna be worth it."

"I'm beginning to trust you," she admitted, suddenly shy around him. "It's scary. I feel like I'm giving you new ways to hurt me every day." She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to say any more, but his honesty had given her courage. "But somehow, I don't think you will," she finished, leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder. She fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, like a piece of puzzle snapping into place.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: had to upgrade to M rating for this chapter, as I'm sure you will realise.**

**Pls tell me what you think, terrified myself a little writing this...**

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It was a couple of days before the end of their sophomore year, exams all but over. In a few days she'd be leaving to go back to Moline for two long months. She was trying to savour every last moment with Jackson before they would be torn apart, spending every available second with him, wrapped up in him. Every night she would find him in the tennis pavilion and lose herself in him, letting his hands roam all over her as she breathed him in. Each night his hands would get a little bolder, a little more eager, pushing them towards that invisible line she still held in her mind. She was too consumed by him to push him back, too swept away, her body reacting to his instinctively. She knew she was getting too close, but she couldn't help herself. His hands, his mouth were intoxicating to her, the way he called her beautiful over and over like it was her name. He pulled her even closer to him, hot breath on her neck, big hands sliding down her back, cupping her ass, grabbing flesh. She moved in between his legs, him sitting down on an equipment locker, head just slightly below hers, angled up towards her. His lips found hers, she parted them ever so slightly for him, letting him in. She grabbed the back of his neck, nails grazing against shaved hair. He groaned faintly as she dug in a little harder, one hand now spread wide on the small of her back, pinning her to him. She could feel him grow against her thigh, though this time it made her press against him even harder instead of backing away. His mouth was holding her in place, relentlessly moving into hers. His hand moved from her ass and found its way to her breast, groping her above the thin material of her top, squeezing and pinching. Intuitively she arched her back, giving him better access, her body mindlessly following his lead. Her heart was racing, her blood rushing around her veins, thumping in her ears, her nerve endings raw and exposed as he continued to stroke her. She felt a dull thump between her legs, taking her by surprise as his hand swiftly moved under her shirt, pulling down the material of her bra, hands finding bare skin. The sudden movement sent chills down her spine and her eyes flashed open in protest. She struggled to pull away from him, her hands pushing off his shoulders with some effort, as she moaned a strangled "no". She was still pinned against him, eyes wide, breath ragged.

"No, Jackson," she pleaded, his hands jolting away from her as he regained his senses.

"Sorry," he exhaled, trying to catch his breath, eyes hooded, brows furrowed.

She was at a loss for words, sensing they were at odds. She could see he was disappointed, frustrated even. She didn't know what to say to get them right again. She backed away from him, readjusting her clothes, covering herself up. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her back into him, placing one hand on her cheek.

"I got carried away, I'm sorry," he said, eyes steady. "I'm not gonna make you do anything you don't want to do, ok?"

She nodded at his reassurances, still feeling like they were on shaky ground.

Weeks later she was wasting away at her parents house, bored out of her mind and frustrated that she hadn't heard from Jackson in over two weeks. He'd gone away to Europe with his grandfather, she knew, and the time difference coupled with reception issues had made it impossible to stay in touch. He'd texted her once to say he had arrived, but radio silence had ensued, leaving her to dig into her own insecurities once again. She wasn't comfortable with how they had left it, not trusting his sincerity or his reassurances. The next couple of days before the holiday had been awkward, him trying not to push her too far, her trying pretend it didn't bother her. Although they hadn't talked about it, she felt pretty certain he wasn't a virgin, unlike her. She had tried not to pay attention to the whispers and rumours that year they had been apart, but she had got the distinct impression he hadn't abstained from anything at all. She felt hopelessly inadequate and worried that he was somewhere in Europe thinking he could do better than her.

The days passed, her frustration and anxiety growing with each stifling hot day. She was angry at her phone for not offering her what she needed the most, a sign he was still thinking about her. Her sisters were no help, the two younger ones clueless as to what advice they could possibly offer, the oldest one too wrapped up in her own relationship to even notice her. She had attempted to talk to Hannah about it, but she had stopped herself, not sure she wanted her too-honest opinions just yet. George had gone away to stay with Tom and his family in the Hamptons for two weeks, so she was impossible to get a hold of. She had trouble sleeping, her mind constantly whirring, the nights too hot, her legs covered in annoying mosquito bites. She was tossing and turning, about to finally drift off when she heard her older sister stir and get out of bed. She could hear her getting dressed and carefully tiptoeing across the floor so as not to wake her, before sliding out of their open window, and jumping down on the garage roof below. April carefully followed her, peeking out of the window trying to figure out what Libby was up to. She saw her skipping excitedly towards her boyfriend, who was waiting on the dirt road leading up to their house, leaning against his battered old pick up. She watched her sister leap into his arms, climbing him like a tree, legs wrapped around his waist. Their embrace was unbearably heated, tugging at each other's clothes, hands moving hungrily over each other. She had to look away, their moment too intimate for her to witness. She heard the doors slam and the truck drive off, as she climbed back into bed.

When she woke up the next morning her sister was back in her bed, snoring softly. She waited for a little while, until she couldn't anymore.

"Libby!" she whispered loudly, waking her sister up instantly.

"What?" she moaned irritably, rubbing her eyes and pulling the covers tightly around her.

"I saw you last night," she said quietly, eyeing her sister intently from across the room.

"Shit!" Libby groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Please don't tell mom, ok?"

"Are you guys doing it?" she whispered, eyes wide in anticipation. Libby laughed, stifling the sound with her hand before nodding her head. April gasped, surprised at her older sister. Despite Libby being two years her senior her parents had kept her on a pretty tight leash, boyfriends generally being discouraged. She hesitated before asking her next question, blushing slightly at her own words. "What's it like?"

Her sister rolled her eyes at her, but straightened her face when she saw how serious April was. She pondered her question for a while, smile slowly spreading across her face.

"It's pretty great," Libby finally said, sincerity in her voice. "It's just...different."

"Did it hurt?" April said, voice barely audible.

"A bit," she admitted, eyes blinking rapidly, some unnamed emotion twinkling inside. "But only for a bit, and then it got better. A lot better."

"Do you love him?"

"Love?" Libby shrugged. "I don't know. I like him a lot."

April processed all the new information she had been given, mind racing away, suddenly lost in her own thoughts.

"Are you thinking about it?" Libby's question yanked her out of her reverie. She shrugged, biting her lip nervously.

"Look," Libby lectured, voice stern. "Stop being so neurotic about it. You obviously really like this guy, and that's great. You don't have to rush into anything, ok? Just relax, _breathe,_ be patient. You'll get there when you are meant to get there."

She rolled over on her back, sighing heavily, covering her face in her hands. Just then her phone beeped, text message from Jackson appearing on her screen.

_*I miss you*_

School couldn't start fast enough for her, she was desperately counting the days until she was back at Hartwell. She was ready to start her junior year, eager to see her friends, impatient to be reunited with Jackson. She dumped her things into her new room, finally old enough to be awarded a single room, though thankfully just next door to George. She popped her head into her friend's room to say a quick hello, before she rushed out in search of Jackson. She ran into him just a few minutes later, him also rushing towards her, big grin on his face. He picked her up, seemingly without effort, twirling her around before planting a big kiss on her. She squealed happily, breathing him in. He put her down carefully, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her so deeply she no longer knew who was breathing for who. Pressed against him, their kiss was impatient, eagerly reacquainting them. She stepped back, words flowing out of her, mouth not telling her stories fast enough, and his ears not big enough to take them in. They ran their hands over each other, eyes following, each trying to take in the changes in the other. Once the words had finally run out, she leant her forehead against his, simply taking in his presence.

"You." he whispered, kissing her forehead. "Are." he continued, kissing her nose. "Mine." his mouth finding hers.

"I'm yours," she breathed into his mouth.

They stood there looking at each other, saying nothing, but knowing that nothing meant everything.

The next weeks were torture for her, each day bringing her closer to her inevitable conclusion. Every time he touched her, he left her skin on fire, every time he kissed her, she was left trembling. She was distracted, her nightly runs losing their effect. She found herself pulling away from him after the sweetest kisses, not trusting herself to let them run deeper. He was bemused at her reaction to him, not understanding what she was doing.

"What's wrong, babe?" he asked in frustration, as she had just pulled away from him again.

"You're just a bit too...distracting...at the moment," she apologised, throwing her head back and running her hands through her hair.

"I don't know what that means," he sighed, still clueless to her internal struggle.

"Oh, god," she groaned. "Don't make me say it." He gave her a blank look, not comprehending. "I can't trust myself with you," she tried, struggling to find the right words. "Every time I start kissing you, I'm afraid I won't be able to stop." She blurted out the final words, blushing furiously, afraid to look him in the eyes.

"April," he whispered, voice hoarse. "You're killing me right now. You know I would never force you into something you're not ready for, but right now I think you are literally trying to kill me."

He grabbed her arms, brining her closer, forcing her to look at him. The intensity of his eyes, bright globes of blueish-green probing her, undid her. She felt a warm glow burn in the pit of her stomach, spreading down between her thighs, making her bite down on her lip. She knew with utmost certainty that he was not pushing her to cross over that invisible line in her head, but that she was pushing that line far ahead of herself.

That night she was fast asleep, when she was jolted awake by her door opening. She was delirious with sleep, unable to recognise the figure hovering by the entrance immediately.

"Hi," a familiar voice whispered.

"Hi," she responded, still unsure who was in her room.

She had just regained her senses as the figure reached her side, and she finally realised Jackson had snuck into her room, and was now climbing into bed next to her. Panic gripped her, more scared that he'd get caught than worried about the motive behind his nightly visit.

"Jackson!" she hissed quietly. "There's no lock on the door, what if someone comes in?"

He hushed her, sliding into the narrow single bed.

"It's the middle of the night, everyone is asleep," he assured her. "Mind moving over so I don't fall out?"

She shifted closer to the wall, giving him more space, initial panic subsiding as she listened to the quiet dorm around her. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, finding his shining eyes in the soft glow of the street light outside her window.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered softly.

"I told you," he murmured, face hovering just above hers. "You're killing me."

He kissed her sweetly, his lips soft against hers.

"You know I love you, right?" he whispered so quietly in her ear she wasn't sure she heard him correctly.

"I know."

He wrapped her up in his arms, stroking her hair, holding her still against his chest for a while. She tilted her head towards him, parting her lips as she kissed him hungrily, her heart beating hard in her chest. She breathlessly pulled him on top of her, needing his hands on her. She sunk her fingers into his back as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, letting out a stifled groan into her mouth. He dug into her hip, his hand searing hot on her bare skin, making her hitch her leg around his ass and bring him in even closer. He shifted them slightly to the side so he could run his hand underneath her t-shirt, hand burning her as it travelled up her ribs. She arched her back as he reached her breasts, desire rippling through her as he pinched her nipples. She bit down on her lip, struggling to keep quiet as he kept circling his fingers around her swollen skin. His breath was hot against her skin as he left her mouth, moving down to let his tongue continue what his fingers had started. She thought she could hear him muttering "so fucking beautiful" between kisses, but she could hear very little apart from the blood thumping in her ears and her own heavy breathing. He found her mouth again, then rested on his elbows above her, holding her gaze as one hand found the elastic of her panties, slowly tracing the top with his fingers. He was asking her permission, which she wordlessly gave. His fingers felt foreign against her flesh, but her body responded to him instinctively, tilting her hips upwards to more of him, thighs tightening around his arm as he slipped his fingers inside her. She lost herself to the heat of it all, the world disappearing underneath her as he finished her, her whole body convulsing underneath his. He whispered her name into her neck as he pulled away from her, making her twitch by placing soft kisses above her collarbone. Before she had a chance to gather her wits he was gone again, slipping out of her room as quietly as he came. She could still taste him on her tongue.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I don't know if it's because I've been listening to too much R Kelly recently (Cookie), but this seemed to write itself, except it was kinda mortifying trying to edit this on a plane sitting next to an old man... Hope you like it (hope he did too...). I'm away again this week so no updates for a little while, sorry!**

**Pls review and let me know what you think if you can!**

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She woke up bewildered the following morning, stretching her tired limbs, feeling a slight ache in her legs, her stomach muscles sore. She couldn't quite believe what had happened last night, replaying every moment in her head. She buried her head in her pillow, inhaling the scent of him, wide smile spreading across her face. She shivered at the memory of his touch, disconcerted by the memory of her own response. She flushed deeply at the thought, mortification seeping in, mixing with her other emotions. She felt elated, light headed, delirious, and now also ashamed. She worried that she had made a false step, overreacted somehow, let him go too far or not far enough. She didn't trust that what had felt natural to her last night had been as it was supposed to be. She forced herself out of bed, shuffling down the hall to the bathroom. Lost in her thoughts, she stepped out of the shower, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, gasping at her own reflection. Her lips were pink and swollen, faint traces of a love bite by her collarbone, and on her left hip were five small, round bruises, perfect imprints of Jackson's fingers. She covered herself quickly, a low fire building in the pit of her stomach.

She caught his eyes in assembly, gazing into them across a sea of people, small smile on his lips as she faintly blushed from the memories of last night. She tore herself away as she realised Hannah had been trying to catch her attention.

"So what do you think, should I do it?" Hannah finished, leaving April utterly clueless as to what her friend had been trying to tell her.

"Hm?" she asked distractedly.

"What's up with you today?" Hannah said, eyes narrowing.

"Oh, just a bit tired, that's all," she said, somewhat truthfully, stifling a yawn.

"So do you think I should say yes?" Hannah changed the subject, slight annoyance in her voice.

"Say yes?" She still had no idea what was going on.

"April!" Hannah whined, exasperated. "Should I go out with him?"

"Go out with who?" She racked her brain, trying to remember names that might have come up I the last five minutes, trying to remember names that might have come up in the last five months.

"Rich! Have you been listening to me at all?"

Her mouth dropped, the last name she had expected to hear come out of her friends mouth.

"No, I don't think you should go out with Rich!" she spluttered, incredulous. "He's an asshole, of course you shouldn't go out with him!"

"Jackson's an asshole too and you still go out with him!" Hannah spat her words back in April's face, anger glistening in her eyes. "God, ever since you got back with him you're so lost up his ass you can't even see it!"

"He's not..." she began, but was interrupted by the headmaster entering and subsequently silencing the room. She spent the next fifteen minutes fuming at Hannah, thinking up perfect reasons why Rich was an asshole and Jackson wasn't, but as soon as assembly was over Hannah quickly got up and left without saying another word to her.

When Hannah purposefully avoided her both at lunch and dinner, she knew they were having a full on fight. It drove her to the brink of insanity, knowing her best friend was angry with her, even more so because she was the one who was supposed to be mad. Why couldn't she just be happy for her? Why couldn't she see that Jackson was good for her? The timing was terrible, April had been desperate to talk to Hannah about what had happened last night, and now she couldn't, further adding to her frustration.

By the time she was alone with Jackson that night, she couldn't shake her anger, annoyed at everyone and everything. He tried to soothe her, but it only made her more irritable.

"Ok, I give up," he sighed, raising his hands to her. "I can't seem to do anything right. Are you annoyed that I came to your room last night?"

"What? No!" She tried to reassure him, unfolding her arms and wrapping them around his neck instead. "No, that was great."

"Ok, then stop making it seem like I did something bad, ok?" His head dropped, eyes blinking, looking away from her.

"Hey, you were perfect, ok?" she insisted, trying to catch his gaze. "I don't know why I'm the one trying to convince you here, I'm the amateur here, remember?" She tried to make light of the situation, but his face only grew more tense, frown deepening.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Now he was the one annoyed.

"I-i only meant..." she stumbled, scrambling for words to appease him. "I guess you've done that before, and I haven't."

"Not really," he muttered. "I'm not some manwhore you know, I'm not like a sex expert or anything."

"You mean you haven't...?" she faltered, taken aback by his uncharacteristic insecurity.

"No, I have," he said, still avoiding her eyes. "Once or twice. It wasn't...great."

"Nikki?" she managed, hoping it wouldn't be. He nodded. Her heart sank, as did her hands.

"It's different with you, ok?" he started, grabbing her hands. "I don't really know what I'm supposed to do, but when I'm with you it just sort of happens, you know? Like my hands know what to do even if I don't."

He finally lifted his head, returning her gaze. She felt a familiar twitch between her legs, soft gasp escaping her lips. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, positioning her between his legs. His face closed in on hers, not quite reaching her, just hovering above her, breathing into her.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, face still inches away from hers. "I can't stop thinking about what I want to do to you," he continued, eyes flickering down to her lips. "Or where I want to touch you," he breathed, closing his eyes as if he was in pain.

When he opened his eyes again, they were full. Full of emotion, intent and want. In that moment she lost touch with the world around her, engulfed in that infinite hunger she was faced with, that all-encompassing desire. Her heart was racing, her mouth aching for his, giving herself to him before he had even touched her.

The second time he came to her room was a few days later. She was still surprised even if it had been a foregone conclusion. Despite how comfortable she was in his presence, despite her physical craving for him, she was nervous. Her breath hitched as he climbed into bed next to her, her heart racing as he kicked off his shoes, her throat constricting as he turned to face her. He stroked her hair, saying nothing for a while.

"Do you want to do this?" he whispered, wet eyes blinking in the darkness.

She nodded, not ready to form the words.

"You sure?"

She nodded again, lifting her hand to his cheek, stroking his soft skin.

"Do you?" she finally managed, voice hushed.

He nodded at her, holding her gaze steady in his eyes. He made no motion to move for what seemed an eternity, all the while she was holding her breath, scared that her breathing would ruin the moment. He finally moved, closing in on her, kissing her softly. His hands gently cupped the side of her face, fingers twisting into her hair, tongue gently parting her lips. She pulled herself into him, aligning her body with his, the naked skin of her legs meeting the rough fabric of his jeans. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, yanking at the hem of his shirt impatiently. He broke their kiss briefly to help her slip the shirt over his head before returning to her. She let her hands roam over his chest and his arms, hard muscle moving under her touch, skin warm and impossibly soft. She broke away from him so she could look at him, never having seen his naked torso before. She took all of him in, running a finger down his sternum, eliciting a faint shudder from him. He dove into her again, this time with more urgency, grabbing her hip and tilting her downwards, shifting so he hovered above her. She quickly pulled her t-shirt over her head, momentarily bashful as she was exposed to him. She pulled her arms across her chest without thinking, but didn't protest as he removed them again, one by one.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, eyes wide, staring down at her bare chest, dimly lit by the street lights outside her window. This time she heard him perfectly.

She tilted her head back as he went for her throat, nibbling, licking, kissing. She dug her fingers into the bare skin on his back as each kiss sent chills down her spine, making her skin break out in goosebumps. He moved down to her breasts, hot hands pinning her down to the mattress. Her breath grew ragged as he reached her nipples, grazing them with his teeth. He moved further still, lips against bare skin, kissing unkissed places. She bit down on her lip as he reached the edge of her panties, tracing the thin fabric with his lips. She forgot what she had been nervous about entirely. He stopped suddenly, her body involuntary arching, reaching for him, as he discarded his jeans on the floor. As he leant over her to meet her mouth again, she could feel his hardness between them, digging into her softness. He gasped as her hands grew bold, slipping her fingers inside the waistband of his boxers. She traced the soft skin under the elastic before sliding her hand all the way inside, gently placing her hand around him. He stilled in her mouth while she explored, hesitantly at first. She was surprised at how smooth it felt, how fragile it seemed in her hand, despite the rigidity. He sucked in his breath as she tightened her grip, pulling away from her.

"Don't," he warned. "Not yet."

She released him, watching him pull his boxers down before hooking his thumbs into the elastic of her underwear and slipping them down her legs. He disappeared for a moment, rustling of foil giving him away. He came back, tracing kisses up her thighs, the rough stubble of his hair scraping against her skin. She broke into a cold sweat as he moved up her the length of her body, his eyes closing briefly as he saw her reaction to him. He rested between her legs, hovering over her, locking her in his gaze.

"You sure you want to do this?" he whispered softly, eyes intently searching hers.

"I want this," she answered, voice trembling.

He kissed her slowly, sweetly, breath hot against her lips. She felt his hand search for her, shivers gripping every part of her spine. He entered her slowly, releasing her mouth so he could capture her eyes instead. She clamped down on her lip, eyes slamming shut as a sharp pain rippled through her body, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She had to clasp her hand over her mouth to silence a high-pitched gasp, causing him to stiffen above her. She could feel him shift so his weight was off her, barely touching her.

"Are you ok?" he asked, voice small, filled with concern.

She didn't respond immediately, taking a deep breath and opening her eyes to look at him again. She relaxed into him, adjusting to the foreign sensation of fullness inside her, feeling herself stretch around him.

"Better," she finally replied, running her hands over his back, pulling him back to her.

He hesitated, frown forming on his face. She drew him in, kissing him deeply, moving her legs wider apart, convincing him. He slowly began to move into her again, letting her adjust to him as he went deeper. Each time he met her the pain was a little duller, until she wasn't quite sure if it was unpleasant any more. His breath was shallow and loud, occasionally stifling growls from deep inside. She heard her own breath come out as high-pitched sobs as he continued to dive into her. Her body instinctively began to meet his, receiving him, tilting up towards him, and then she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. She came undone as his mouth found her neck, tightening her legs around him, her body arching away from him. She felt him shudder and relax on top of her, exhaling her name into her neck. He stroked her hair, kissing her forehead softly as he pulled away from her.

"You glad we did that?" he whispered after a while, uncertainly.

"Yeah," she breathed.

He pulled her tightly towards his chest, kissing the top of her head. She could hear his heart beat loudly under his warm skin, strong hands stroking her sensitive skin, his body hard and soft at the same time. _I made his heart beat like this, _she smiled to herself. The feeling of her naked skin against his was almost better than what had happened before. She let her mind wander, stroking his chest absent-mindedly, letting her breathing calm down to a natural rhythm.

"You ok?" he asked after a while.

"Yeah..." she said, voice hoarser than she liked. "Bit emotional I guess."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm not a virgin anymore," she stated, letting her thoughts flow to her lips without passing by her brain. "I can't take that back. It's kind of a big deal."

"Um...do you want to take it back?" he asked, panic seeping into his hushed voice.

"No...that's not what I meant," she tried, not sure if she had convinced him. "It was perfect, ok? You were perfect."

She quickly tilted her head towards him, showing him she meant it, covering his mouth with hers.

"You better go," she said reluctantly, not ready to shatter the moment.

"Yeah," he agreed, slipping out of the narrow bed and into his clothes. He kissed her softly on the lips before heading towards the door.

"I love you," she whispered urgently, as the door opened without a sound. "Please don't get caught!"

He smiled widely before sliding out of the door, disappearing into the dark.

The next morning she ran straight to Hannah's dorm, waiting for her to emerge on her way to breakfast.

"I need to tell you something."

At first Hannah eyed her with hostility, but quickly melted when she saw how serious April was, forgetting their fight instantly.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: thanks for all the reviews, I probably would have given up on this pretty quickly if it hadn't been for all your kind words! Was agonising a bit over how to keep this story going, kind of wanting it to be all happy-ever-after but that's not really in my nature so I'm throwing them back in :) As always I really appreciate your feedback!**

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"Come on!" Hannah impatiently motioned April to follow her. "Quit stalling."

Hannah was dragging her along to the health centre, fed up with her excuses.

"You're gonna have to do this sooner or later, so pick it up!"

"Ok, ok!" April begrudgingly conceded, steeling herself for the humiliation she was about to endure.

Hannah practically pushed her through the door, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes as April was ushered into the school nurse's office.

"So what can I do for you today, dear?" the older lady kindly asked, warm smile on her face.

"Um...," she hesitated, swallowing hard, eyes firmly fixed on her hands wringing in her lap. "I was thinking of going on the pill, maybe?" Her voice barely carried across the room, so the nurse had to lean in to catch her meaning.

"Right, I see," she said cheerfully. "Any particular reason why?"

April cursed Hannah for making her go through with this on her own, scrambling to find the words.

"Well...," she attempted, unable to continue.

"Are you having sexual intercourse regularly?" the nurse finally came to her rescue.

_Regularly? _She wasn't sure if once counted as regular, but didn't know what else to say.

"Yes," she managed, flushing deeply. "Please don't tell my parents!"

"I'm here as a health care professional, my dear," she explained, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm not allowed to disclose any confidential information, but as you know sexual activity within the school premises is not allowed at Hartwell."

She swallowed hard before nodding solemnly. The nurse asked her a few more questions and sent her on her way, clutching her prescription in her hands.

"See, that wasn't so bad was it?" Hannah offered, slipping her arm around April's waist.

"That was mortifying," she hissed. "I hate you."

"You fucking love me, you big whore," Hannah laughed, making her cringe at the crass words.

Her face was still bright red and hot as they walked down towards breakfast, running into Jackson and Rich on the way. Hannah quickly abandoned her, falling into step with Rich, practically skipping next to him. Jackson eyed her inquisitively, flinging his arm around her shoulders.

"You ok?"

"Yup," she nodded, carefully slipping the white paper bag into her school bag. "Just... Not sure how I feel about that." She motioned towards Rich and Hannah flirting like crazy in front of them.

"He's not too bad, honestly," he shrugged, turning his attention back to her. "Everything else ok?"

His voice dropped, thick with implication. He fixed her in his gaze, arm moving down around her waist, fingers caressing her side, pulling her in tighter. She felt her face burn hot again, flashing her eyelashes down, warm feeling igniting in her stomach.

"Stop it!" she whispered loudly, unable to stop a smile spreading across her face.

Days had passed since he had come to her room that night, both of them trying to cool down, acutely aware of the lack of privacy they were afforded at Hartwell. They were circling around each other, but every time she had been with him since that night she had felt an electric current running between them. She'd jolt whenever he touched her, hold her breath when he locked eyes with her, shudder when he said her name a certain way. She was back in that place where she couldn't concentrate in class, catching herself running her fingers over her mouth absent-mindedly, staring into space and smiling for no reason. She tried to pull herself out of it, forcing herself to run a little harder each night, but then she'd see him and she would be right back in that place. It was hard to keep her mind from him when they were apart and harder still to keep her hands from him when they were together. She had a constant need to be near him, each meeting bringing them closer, tension building, frustration mounting.

Finally, it overwhelmed them. They had ducked into the athletics centre to escape a particularly icy rain shower, only to be frozen in each other's stare, breathless and wet from the downpour. He pulled her down a quiet hallway and into an equipment room, pushing a metal cage filled with volleyballs in front of the door to stop anyone entering. They clung to one another desperately, lips crashing into each other, teeth meeting skin. His hands were greedily exploring her, groping her ass a little too hard, but she didn't mind. He pushed her up against the wall, her head colliding with a mess of tangled up volleyball nets. His hands moved to her front, roughly kneading her breasts, as she grabbed his behind, pulling him in to her. She gasped out loud as he undid the top button of her jeans and slid his hand inside. He pulled out of her mouth as he pushed his fingers inside her, eyes boring into hers, causing her to whimper.

"Jackson," she whispered, voice unsteady. "What if someone hears us?"

He hushed her, focusing his attention on her neck, kissing and softly biting. His lips on her neck sent shivers directly to her centre, her body automatically buckling under his touch. He pulled out of her, lifting her up and depositing her on a stack of mats. Her eyes widened as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head and started to undo his jeans, concerns about being interrupted melting away as she let her eyes roam over his body. The room was considerably better lit than her bedroom, and as he discarded his clothes and went to work on hers she found herself diverted, her focus entirely on him. His skin was still damp from the rain, the muscles in his arms rippling as he moved above her, strong jaw clenched in concentration as he attempted to remove her bra. She giggled softly, arching her back away from the mat to allow him better access. He seemed to appreciate the bright fluorescent lights too, transfixed by her bare chest, hands and mouth caressing her naked skin. His mouth searched for hers, hungry and impatient, tongue pushing her lips apart. She wrapped herself around him, arms clutching his back, legs hitched up and folded around his hips, pushing herself into him. He pulled back briefly, discarding a foil wrapper on the floor, hurrying back to her. He slipped her panties to one side before pushing into her, surprising her with his urgency. There was no pain this time, just an impossible fullness. He set a furious pace, diving into her over and over, tilting up her hips to meet his. She held her breath, scared it would come out in moans if she released it. He moved over her body with his mouth, groaning quietly into her skin, clutching her hips hard. She bit into her lip, letting short, staggered breaths out through her teeth, tension building deep within her. Suddenly he flipped her so he was under her, the new position confounding her. She hesitated, experimenting with the pace, watching the expression on his face change under her. His eyes darkened, lids growing heavy as she found the right speed, swivelling her hips gently, feeling him reach deep inside her. Her blood was pounding in her ears, his heavy breath mixing with her own, her body finding a natural rhythm on top of him. The tension inside her was mounting, causing her to dig her hands into his chest, tightening her thighs around him, pointing her toes behind her. Suddenly she was released, her mind frozen, lights flashing inside her closed eyes, body shuddering over him. She was vaguely aware that he had sat up, arms folded around her back, stroking her hair as she continued to convulse around him. It was a while until she could open her eyes again, short laugh escaping her lips as she did, too exhausted to talk.

"Holy shit!" he laughed quietly into her shoulder, him also out of breath, holding her tightly.

Their physical relationship consumed her as they continued their game, tension building up until it became insufferable, then finding release whenever they could. It was exhausting and distracting, she had to plead with him to give her days off so she could try to focus her mind on something other than him. Somehow she managed to keep her grades up, though it felt like a miracle. Christmas break had been unbearable, three weeks of torture, her body memory making her squirm in her seat whenever she thought of him, which was all the time. Her mother noticed, questioning her about it over dinner, making her squirm even more. Libby merely looked at her with a knowing smile, winking at her from across the table. She had to get up and leave, shooting her sister a dirty look before leaving the room. The long phone conversations she had with Jackson each night didn't help, though she wouldn't have gone without them. She was happy that their relationship was deepening outside their physical connection, feeling a closeness with him despite their separation.

A few weeks after Christmas he was in her bed, his hot body tangled around her, his weight pinning her down to the mattress. His head was resting on her naked chest, his body rising and falling with heavy breaths. They had spent the last hour exhausting each other, so she had let him fall asleep on top of her for a little while. It was nearly five in the morning, the alarm clock next to her bed informed her, almost time for him to sneak out of her room and return to his own. She was about to wake him when the loud, piercing sound of a siren jolted them both. It took her a couple of seconds for her brain to register what was happening, before panic gripped her bones, forcing her to scramble out of bed. Jackson was way ahead of her, already struggling to get into his clothes as the fire alarm blared around them. She grabbed a t-shirt and some leggings, his hand already on the door knob, shouting something at her which she couldn't identify through the sound of the alarm. She held her breath as he tore through the door, looking both ways into the hallway before sprinting out, disappearing. She stood frozen to the floor, praying he would make it out unseen, when her door burst wide open, George incoherently screaming at her. She finally registered, grabbing her thick coat on the way out, rushing through the fire door at the end of the corridor, scrambling down the stairs. As they huddled around in the courtyard outside the dorm with the other bleary-eyed, scantily dressed girls, she realised she had forgot to put on her shoes, the icy ground burning her bare feet. George offered her scarf, making April stand on it while their dorm head, Mr Boyd, started calling names, checking off his list.

"Jackson?" George whispered in her ear, raising one eyebrow.

She shrugged imperceptibly, widening her eyes. She scanned the crowds, noting that all the dorm buildings had huddles of frozen and confused students outside them, before finally catching a glimpse of Jackson standing together with the other boys in his dorm. _He didn't get caught!_ She exhaled with relief, motioning her head towards him so George could see. But when she glanced over again Jackson was standing next to Mr Lane, his dorm head, eyes to the ground. Some of the boys around him were patting his back, laughing at some unheard joke, whilst Mr Lane was folding his arms, face grim as he called over to Mr Boyd, leaning in for a hushed, serious conversation. She caught Jackson's eyes, face filled with regret as he shrugged his shoulders, mouthing "sorry" at her from across the courtyard. Her heart sank as Mr Boyd made his way over to her group, stern look on his face.

"Right, everybody inside, thank you!" he shouted, ushering the shivering gaggle of girls back in the dorm building, holding her back. "Let's get you into some shoes, Miss Kepner, then come into my office for a chat."

The next day she sat outside the headmasters office, fidgeting uncomfortably, pulling at her skirt, waiting to be called in. She had just seen Jackson come out, shamefaced, eyes filled with apology as he had been rushed away by Mr Lane. She had not been allowed to go to class that morning, not been allowed to speak to either Jackson or any other student, phone confiscated in the early hours of the morning. Mr Boyd motioned for her to enter Dr Holden's office, opening the door and following her in.

"Miss Kepner," the headmaster boomed, terrifying her even though he had merely indicated that she should sit down. "Please."

"Mr Boyd tells me that young Mr Avery was caught sneaking out of your dorm during the fire drill this morning," he started, folding his hands on the giant oak desk he was sitting behind. "I assume it was your room he was, what shall we say...visiting?"

There was no point denying it, so she nodded curtly, eyes flickering down to the floor, face burning hot.

"As you know," Dr Holden continued. "We insist that students refrain from intimate sexual relationships whilst at Hartwell. This goes against school rules and the student's honour code, as I'm sure you are aware."

She could feel both Dr Holden and Mr Boyd's eyes on her as she hung her head in shame, knowing the inevitable conclusion she was about to be faced with.

"I have no choice but to suspend you both for a week," Dr Holden concluded, opening his hands, indicating that her actions had sealed her own fate. "I have already informed your parents."

_Oh shit!_ She whipped her head up to face the headmaster at the last comment, her heart jumping to her throat, tears stinging her eyes as she realised the implication of his words. Her parents knew! Her stomach immediately twisted into a hard knot, imagining the disappointment her parents must feel, wondering if they would be angry with her.

"There is one problem, however," Dr Holden said, voice a little lower, almost uncomfortable. "Your parents have informed me that they simply don't have the money to pay for your fare back home."

She winced under his words, humiliation deepening, forcing her to pinch the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes hoping the earth would open and swallow her whole.

"You can absolutely not stay here, so after discussing this with both your parents and Mrs Avery, we have decided that you should go to Boston with Mr Avery," he said, tone serious again, pausing for effect. "Under the strict supervision of Mrs Avery of course."

She was stunned, mortified, mind reeling. Slowly, she was gripped with terror, realising she was going to have to spend a week with her boyfriend's mother, and under which circumstances it was happening.

"This is not a reward, Miss Kepner," Dr Holden warned. She had been under no illusion that it was. "This is very much a punishment. You will have to hand in extra coursework at the end of the week, which Mr Boyd will give you before you leave."

"Of course," she finally managed, scrambling to keep her composure. "I'm sorry."

"I have to say we are all very disappointed in you, Miss Kepner," Dr Holden said, getting up from behind his desk. "I'm surprised you could be so easily distracted from achieving the self-discipline of a mature young adult."

With those final humiliating words, she was escorted out of the headmaster's office and back to her dorm to pack up her things.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: this chapter was tricky to write, spent a lot of time on it, but not sure if it shows. I love mama Avery, but feel like I haven't really got a handle on how she would react to teen Japril. I'm kinda writing myself into corners here, cause I never plan too much ahead, but that's part of the fun. I'm as curious as you to see what happens next;) please leave a review!**

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She stood in the courtyard in front of the dorm buildings, bag on the ground next to her, arms folded. Jackson stood next to her, waiting in silence. No words had passed between them since last night, Mr Boyd's presence further complicating matters. Finally a big, black town car pulled up next to them, and she climbed in the back as Jackson opened the door for her. They were finally alone, mute driver aside, as the car pulled out of the school grounds. There was an awkward tension between them, the silence feeding the anxiety growing inside her. As they reached the highway, neither of them had spoken, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"I'm so sorry," Jackson finally broke the silence, eyes filled with sincerity. She said nothing, offering him only a thin smile. "I mean, I'm sorry I got caught, you know, not about everything else." He was rambling, eyes flickering uncertainly.

"Are you pissed?" he asked when she still didn't respond.

"No...no," she started, tears pricking her eyes. "No, it's just everyone _knows _now...my parents know, your mother knows, the teachers know, everyone _knows_! And everyone is just so disappointed, you know, which is worse than being angry obviously, much much worse! And now I have to call my parents and talk to them about it, and I have to face your mother, who I've never even met, and God knows what she thinks of me now! And as if I wasn't already humiliated enough my parents couldn't even pay for my ticket home, and I'm just absolutely mortified, and..."

"Stop it April, please!" he interrupted her ramble, grabbing her gesticulating hands, calming her instantly. "It's gonna be fine, I promise."

He was looking at her intently, voice soothing, but she couldn't stop her hands from shaking, tears pressing behind her eyes. She let her tears fall, the anxiety and guilt having taken their toll on her.

"Hey...," he said softly, shuffling closer, wrapping his arms around her. "Seriously, no one cares about the money. And your parents will probably be upset for a while and then they'll forget about it."

His voice was less than convincing, but she wanted to believe him.

"As for my mother..," he said through gritted teeth, voice trailing off, eyes blinking rapidly as he spoke again. "It's fine. It'll be fine."

He was reassuring himself more than her, which worried her. She only knew a little about his mother, he was never willing to share too much information about his family. She knew she was a brilliant surgeon of course, which had excited her at first considering her own dream for a career in medicine, but Jackson had downplayed it, everyone in his family was a surgeon, it didn't excite him at all. She also knew his mother must be a strong woman, having raised Jackson mostly by herself, whilst building her career and heading up the board of the Harper Avery foundation, which sounded impressive though she wasn't quite sure what the big deal was. Jackson had also let on that she was intense, constantly calling him, keeping tabs on him, to the point that he would avoid her calls, or roll his eyes when yet another text message flashed up on his phone. She realised he was apprehensive about going home, his body tensing as the car brought them closer to Boston.

"Guess we should cool it for a while, though?" he half-joked, trying to make her smile.

"You think?" she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, but forced to smile despite herself.

Three hours later they rolled up in front of an imposing red brick town house, trepidation gripping her, making her move slowly. Jackson grabbed her hand, trying to reassure her as they stepped up to the door, her hands sweating as the doorbell chimed ominously. She dropped his hand abruptly as soon as the door opened, bringing her face to face with Jackson's grinning mother.

"Sweetheart!" she shrilled, kissing her son forcibly, leaving a smear of lipstick on his cheek. "It's been no time at all."

Her voice was laced with sarcasm, eyes narrow and smile stiff, pushing her son through the door, focusing her attention on April.

"And you must be April," Jackson's mother said, still smiling, expectant eyes scanning her. "You're nothing like I expected at all."

"Hi Mrs Avery," she managed, unsure whether the last comment had been a compliment or not. "Nice to meet you," she tried, knowing it sounded ridiculous considering the circumstances.

"Yes, well, as much as I love spending time with my baby boy, this is not his finest moment, is it?" she snapped, shooting daggers at Jackson, who looked dumbstruck at his mother's words. "And call me Catherine, I hate Mrs Avery."

April swallowed hard and stepped into the house as Catherine beckoned her to follow.

"Now, I have spoken with your mother, April," Catherine started, making April stumble behind her. "And I promised her that you would call as soon as you arrived, ok?"

_Oh no..._ April had been hoping to put off that conversation for another day at least.

"But first you need something to eat," she said practically, ushering them both into the large kitchen. "And I'd also like for us to have an adult conversation about this..._business._"

Jackson groaned loudly, slumping down on one of the bar stools at the breakfast counter.

"The housekeeper made some sandwiches before she left," she motioned towards the plate on the counter, pushing April forwards when she hesitated.

The grand kitchen, the housekeeper, Jackson's straightforward mother and the thought of her own overbearing mother waiting for her call was a lot to take in. She was as uncomfortable as could be, picking at her sandwich, despite only having consumed a bowl of cereal under Mr Boyd's supervision early that morning.

"Well, let's not beat around the bush any longer," Catherine started, Jackson cringing at her choice of words. "There will be no sexual activities for you this week, is that clear?"

She didn't wait for them to respond, and neither of them could, April's mouth falling open at the candour of Catherine's order.

"I promised your parents there would be no inappropriate conduct while you are here under my roof, and I intend to keep that promise. You will be in separate rooms, on separate floors, and you will keep your doors open. And I can guarantee you that I will hear you if you try anything stupid, ok?"

She flashed Jackson an angry look, his face despondent, resigned to his mother's will.

"During the day the housekeeper will be here, keeping an eye on you while you work very, very hard on your coursework. During the evening, I will be here, and you will keep me company with witty stories from school and reports on all the wonderful knowledge you are soaking up at the very expensive educational facility your loving parents are investing in on your behalf."

She paled at Catherine's last remark, guilt gripping her for the hundredth time that day, eyes welling up.

"Now," she said, tone softer, eyes flickering between her and Jackson. "You were stupid enough to get suspended for breaking the school rules. I pray to the Lord that you were not so stupid you didn't protect yourselves?"

"Moooom...," Jackson groaned, flinging his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. "Please don't!"

"Jackson Avery!" Catherine scolded him, using his full name to full effect. "Teenage pregnancy is very unbecoming, especially for an Avery!"

"We use condoms, ok!" he shouted, stretching his arms out on the counter and burying his face in them.

"Condoms break," Catherine continued, not letting up.

"Condoms don't break!" Jackson argued, pulling a face at his mother.

"It's ok, I'm on the pill," April snapped, wanting to break up the argument.

"You are?" Jackson whipped his head around to face her, pure surprise in his expression.

"That's great, dear, I'm so glad you two are on the same page." Catherine's voice was laced with acidity, clearly not impressed with them.

The three of them glared at each other for a moment, before Catherine swooped her out of the kitchen, showing her to her room.

She was put in a big room at the top of the house, two whole floors separating her from Jackson, which seemed a little excessive. As she ascended the stairs she had been overwhelmed by the grandeur of the house, the wide, sweeping staircase, the high ceilings, the expensive-looking wooden floors and the sheer scale. She knew Hartwell was an elite school and that Jackson came from money, but she had no idea how wealthy the Avery family actually was. The contrast between his background and hers slowly began to sink in, and as she took in her plush surroundings she began to feel a little lonely, abandoned even. She flicked her eyes to the phone in her hand, stalling. She answered texts from George and Hannah, assuring them she was fine, letting them know the brief details of the day's events before taking a deep breath and dialling her parents number.

"April," her mother's voice was angry, but calm. "You have made a very serious mistake this time."

"I know," she said, voice thick with regret. "I'm really sorry, mom."

"_Is that April?" _she heard her dad shout in the background.

"We didn't let you go to boarding school so you could make mistakes like this," her mother continued, ignoring the angry man.

"_We didn't let you go away so you could spend all your time thinking about boys!" _Her dad sounded furious.

"I know," she repeated.

"School is your number one priority," her mother insisted.

"_And you can forget about that boy too!" _She could imagine her dad pacing around their living room, waving his hands angrily at her.

"Of course it is, mom," she agreed. "You don't have to worry about that, I promise."

"We're very disappointed in you," her mother emphasised, and she could feel the hurt in her voice, knowing she had let her down. For once her dad had nothing to add.

"I know," she whispered, voice breaking, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Your father says hi," her mother started, rounding off their conversation. "Please behave yourself for Mrs Avery."

"I will," she sniffed. "Love you."

"Love you too," her mother finished, voice still cold, breaking her heart a little.

She got ready for bed, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She was about to climb into the big canopy bed when she heard a soft knock on the partially open door.

"Hey," Jackson said, voice tired as he pushed the door open. "My mom said I could come say goodnight." She must have looked worried, because he quickly continued to explain. "If I'm not downstairs in five minutes, my balls will we served to me on a platter apparently."

He shrugged sheepishly, hesitantly taking a small step into her room.

"You're risking your balls for me?" she smiled through wet eyes, walking over to him and pressing her cheek to his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He grabbed her tightly, kissing the top of her head.

"Anything for you," his voice hoarse, stroking her hair.

They hugged each other for as long as they dared, Jackson kissing her chastely on the forehead before sprinting down the stairs again.

The following day was spent in the stiff and formal dining room, hunched over their coursework. The housekeeper, Mrs Morello, was a chunky older woman, short, dull red hair marred with straggly, grey patches. She took her new task to heart, constantly fussing around them, checking up on them every ten minutes. It had been the tenth time that day Mrs Morello had asked April if she wanted a drink, and she couldn't help but huff in frustration when she had left the room.

"I know, it's a bit much," Jackson smiled, rolling his eyes.

"No, it's not that," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I'm perfectly capable of getting up and retrieving a drink for myself if I need one."

"It's her job, just let her get on with it," he shrugged, returning to his coursework.

"It just makes me uncomfortable, that's all," she explained.

"Why?"

"Um, it's just very different from what I'm used to from back home," she admitted, flustered. "It's a big contrast."

"It's just money," he shrugged, brushing her off.

"You don't get it," she sighed, shaking her head. "I'm a scholarship kid, my parents couldn't afford to bring me home when I got suspended. People at school are going to find out."

"Why do you care what people think?" He looked at her blankly, eyes blinking, frown on his forehead.

"It was really hard for me to fit in as it was," she explained, voice a little shaky. "I just don't want people to know, ok?"

"They already know, trust me," he dismissed her. "Did you ever wonder why they put asterisks next to your name in the school directory? They put those next to anyone who has any sort of scholarship."

She swallowed hard, realisation sinking in. She had wondered what the little denotation next to her name had meant, but she hadn't ever connected it with her scholarship status.

"Oh, god!" she groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

"People don't care, April," he said seriously. "Don't worry about it!"

He didn't see where she was coming from, and she was increasingly irritated by him dismissing her.

"I grew up on a pig farm, Jackson," she snapped, face still hidden in her hands. "Plenty of people care."

"I know these people, ok? They're not all elitist assholes with nothing better to do than judge you based on what your parents earn," he said, getting annoyed with her.

She could feel her indignation growing, his willingness to deflate her reasoning irking her.

"Come on, Jackson!" She spat her words out, her temper rising to his annoyance. "You never even wanted to be seen with me that first year!"

"What are you talking about?" he retorted, raising his voice. "I never tried to hide you!"

"You never even acknowledged me unless we were alone!" Her voice was suddenly high-pitched and shaky, betraying some pent-up emotion hiding inside. "We were just sneaking around all the time, God forbid that you should ever talk to me at dinner or anything!"

"Are you serious?" His eyebrows were knotted together, eyelashes blinking furiously. "April, people knew. You're crazy if you think they didn't."

"I felt like you were embarrassed to be seen with me. Like I was this obsessive weirdo that you just liked making out with occasionally."

Her words came out harsher than she had intended, hurt flashing across Jackson's eyes.

"You make yourself out to be more different than you really are," he sighed, frustrated. "I think your life would be much easier if you realized you're not that weird."

She fought the urge to contradict him, trying to let his explanations sink in, but it was as if she had picked off a scab, leaving a fresh new wound, aching and throbbing with familiar old pain.

"You weren't comfortable around me," she said, shaking her head, voice low but steady. "I'm sure of it."

"It must be nice, to be so sure of something," he spat, eyes narrowing.

She said nothing, seething with accusation.

"We were 14", he started, emphasising each word. "It was intense. I freaked out, ok?"

"It was intense," she conceded, still fuming. "It damn near killed me, Jackson. It magnified every insecurity I ever had about myself."

"I'm not perfect," he said, pleading with her. "I fucked up. I hurt you. But when I say I'm sorry, I mean it. It's been two years April. When are you going to forgive me?"

"I thought I had," she sighed, calmer now. "Guess I fucked up too."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: ooh, hello angst, I'm back! Felt like April had some unresolved issues digging away at her, plus I wanted to reveal a bit more of what Jackson is all about, there's a little more insight into that coming up. Oh, and sorry about the ending (I'm not that sorry) ;) Please let me know what you think!**

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Frustrated and pissed off, April climbed all four flights of stairs to her room and slammed the door behind her, instantly remembering she wasn't supposed to shut her door. She groaned as she dutifully set the door ajar again, before climbing up onto the bed and pulling her knees up to her chin. She wasn't built for arguments, she could never find the right things to say and always lost her nerve, backing out at the first given opportunity. She felt completely unsatisfied with how she had left it with Jackson, no obvious resolution in sight. She wasn't sure why she had picked a fight with him in the first place, even more clueless as to why she had kept pushing him further into it. She was tired, of everything and nothing, just wanting someone to tell her that everything was going to be ok. She knew that no one would, she had made sure of that, and again she felt lonely in the big house.

She had hoped that they could get over their argument quickly, that a couple of hours apart would somehow dissipate the animosity between them, but he wasn't interested. As they sat down for dinner, she could feel him withdrawing, averting his eyes and keeping his communication to affirmative or dismissive grunts as his mother questioned them about their day. Covering for Jackson she launched into a ramble on the dynamics and activities of cellulase enzymes, filling his silences with excerpts from her biology coursework. Catherine's eyes flicked knowingly between the two of them, politely smiling at April's enthusiastic conversation, bemused by Jackson's sullen expression. After dinner he quickly got up and left the table, retreating to his room, leaving her alone with his mother.

"He would hate me for saying this," Catherine started, gathering up the dishes. "But he is just like his father. Always internalizing, turning on the mute button, when he actually feels like screaming."

She nodded slowly, helping Catherine clear the table, suddenly quiet now that the tension had left the room.

"He doesn't talk about him much," she offered, wanting to get off the topic of their argument.

"Jackson's father left when he was nine," Catherine said, straightening her back as if she was bracing herself against some unseen foe. "He was old enough to know what it was like to have a father, but not old enough to know that his father leaving had nothing to do with him."

She swallowed hard, images of an abandoned 9 year old tugging at her heart.

"He's worked hard to disassociate himself from everything his father represented ever since," Catherine continued, eyes determined, if a little hard. "The money, the name, the privilege, the medicine, he hates all of it. He even hates coming here, even if he won't admit as much to me."

She could see a flash of hurt in Catherine's eyes, though she recovered quickly, arranging her face back into a stony, unflinching expression. Seeing that brief flash of anguish in Catherine had given her a looking glass into how her own parents might feel if they knew the full extent of her embarrassment over her background and upbringing. She felt dejected, she knew she had betrayed them, failed them.

"It doesn't mean he doesn't love you," she said, not really talking about Jackson anymore.

"Well, exactly," she smiled brightly, most definitely still talking about Jackson. "Why don't you go talk to him, my dear?"

She bit her lip, hesitation building up inside her again.

"No make-up sex, though," Catherine chided, eyes glinting, small smirk on her lips. "I'm still upset with you both for getting suspended."

She couldn't get out of the room fast enough, flushing deeply as she hid her face in her hands.

She gently pushed the door to his room open, entering quietly. He was slumped on his bed, some sports magazine in his hand, weary expression on his face. He shifted when he saw her enter, no words acknowledging her, but making space for her next to him on his bed. She sat down, folding her arms around her legs, sitting next to him in silence for a few minutes.

"You were probably right," she offered. "About the money thing."

He shrugged imperceptibly, still not speaking to her.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly into her knees, both of them staring blankly ahead.

"You've got to stop holding this thing over my head," he said sadly, eyes dropping to his hands.

"I know." Her voice came out in a pained whisper, betraying the struggle inside her. She knew she was being unfair to him, knew that he had done nothing to hurt her since she had let him back in, but she still felt like she hadn't been put back together properly since she broke apart.

"It's like you can't see yourself the way I see you," he sighed, frustration evident in his voice, and in his face. "It's like you refuse to believe in it, or in me. Like you don't trust that I love you."

"I know you love me, Jackson," she said, suddenly fiercely, sitting up straight. "I do. It's just that I felt excluded, for a long time, and it felt like you were a part of it. It's stuck with me."

"I'm sorry you felt that way, April," he said, finally looking at her. "But you have to believe me, I didn't try to hide you, I wasn't embarrassed about you, that's not what happened."

"Even you said I was different, Jackson," her voice small again.

"Different as in independent, different as in intelligent, different as in not the same as every other girl batting their lashes at me," he retorted, spelling it out for her. "You can believe there are differences between you and other people all you want, but how much you play into them is up to you."

She let his words sink in, wash over her, trying to fit them in to the cracks in her soul. He was holding up a mirror to her face, letting her see for the first time how deep her insecurities ran, how they had penetrated her core, grinding inside her. She was terrified then, afraid that her insecurities would hold her back, destroy her, keep her from letting him all the way in.

"I'm sorry I'm not more confident," she said, voice strangled. "These insecurities, sometimes they are just so loud, you know, like I can't hear anything else."

"We all have insecurities, April," he said, serious tone in his voice, eyes clear, unflinching. "You make me feel weak, you scare me a bit."

"Why?" She was taken aback by his honesty, his fearlessness.

"Because you make me tell you things about me that I don't even tell myself."

She felt like a fraud, an imposter, berating him for trying to hide her when she had been hiding herself the whole time. Here he was, heart firmly on his sleeve for all to see, while she was hiding behind old excuses, refusing to open that final door. She had caught up to that place where she had pushed her imaginary line in front of her, finally ready to let him push her across it.

"You make me feel strong," she eventually said, lacing her hand into his, seeing him clearly.

She woke up the next morning confused, not knowing where she was. Her arm was numb, fingers dead, realising they were still intertwined with his. She had fallen asleep on top of him, head on his chest, legs locked into an awkward mess, still fully clothed on top of his bed. He stirred under her, stretching his long limbs, slowly opening his eyes. She realised it was the first time she had woken up next to him.

"Morning," he murmured, voice still marred with sleep.

She kissed him softly, with her eyes open, wanting to see him. It was the first real kiss they had shared in days, and she could feel that familiar old hunger as their lips met. Their kiss deepened, his arms clutching her tightly.

"Good morning, children!" Catherine chirped loudly, slight edge to her voice.

They broke apart with a jolt, April swiftly scurrying out of bed, Jackson covering his lap with a pillow.

"Cold showers for you both, I think," Catherine stated gleefully, taking in the scene in front of her. "You looked so cute last night I didn't want to disturb you, but you are going to have to wait for that make-up sex for a long time, I'm afraid!"

She could feel her cheeks burning hot, quickly heading for the stairs, as Jackson groaned loudly, hiding his head in the pillow. She could still hear Catherine chuckle as she reached her room.

The days passed slowly in Boston, their constant supervision and separation feeling very much like a punishment. Their argument had been settled, but their relationship still felt fragile, not being allowed the reassurances of physical contact. In some ways it was nice having to leave their physical need for each other at the door, thereby forcing them to find other ways to connect, passing inside jokes between them, sharing comfortable silences as they did their coursework, texting each other after they had gone to bed. But being so close to him and not being able to touch him drove her insane, and she could tell he felt the same way. His hands lingered on hers, tracing small circles with his thumb on her skin as they sat next to each other on the sofa, not daring to sit close. His goodnight kisses started off innocent, but grew more fervent as the week progressed, hands clenching as he disappeared down the stairs each night. They way he would look at her as she cracked her neck or rearranged her pony tail made her body hum with a low electic current. Catherine delighted in their discomfort, not missing a step, taking every opportunity to tease them, stretching the rubber band as far as it would go.

By the end of the week they had taken to sitting on opposite sides of the room in case they bumped into each other by accident, as if that would trigger something they would be helpless to stop. Mrs Morello had just left for the night, usually signalling that Catherine would walk through the door at any moment, but instead Jackson's phone jumped angrily on the glass table in front of them. The conversation was brief, his expression unreadable.

"My mom's stuck in surgery," he said, hanging up.

The silence hung in the room between them, exalting the significance of that simple statement.

"We can't," she croaked, eyes wide, no conviction in her voice.

"No, she'd kill us," he agreed, squirming in his seat.

Their eyes met across the room, his impossibly dark, hers narrow, lids heavy. She bit her lip, breath suddenly shallow, hands fingering her loose braid.

"I think I better go to my room," he said, abruptly getting up.

She was left nervously stroking her hair, stomach in knots, palms sweaty. Finally she stopped thinking, body moving on its own accord, legs purposefully climbing stairs. Before she knew it she was in his room, straddling his lap, mercilessly claiming his mouth. He cursed under his breath, pulling her head back by yanking on her braid, his hot mouth on her neck. Her mouth went dry, every short breath filled with urgency and pleasure. She was home, she was back where she belonged, his tongue tasting, probing, cherishing her. She tugged at his clothes, desperately wanting to be closer to him, grinding her hips down, feeling him harden beneath her. He groaned loudly, fingers digging in to her skin. Chills gripped her spine, tingling all the way up to the nape of her neck, making her shudder. She pulled back, regaining her senses, gasping for breath.

"We can't!" She exhaled heavily, practically sobbing into his neck as she rolled off him.

"Fuck!" He flopped back on the bed, brining his hands to his forehead, shaking his head in pure frustration.

"Sorry," she giggled, readjusting her clothes.

"I think my balls are literally going to fall off," he groaned, adjusting himself, discomfort clear in his eyes.

When Catherine came home a few hours later they were back in the living room, sitting across the room from one another, as uncomfortable as ever.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: thanks so much for the lovely reviews guys, I've really enjoyed writing this. I think I've got about three chapters left before I wrap this up, hopefully saving the best for last;) pls let me know what you think!**

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As Catherine kissed her cheek goodbye, April was relieved to be going back to Hartwell, ready for her days to hold more distractions from Jackson. The last few days had been agonising, her body wound up like a spring. It was as if she could physically feel it inside her, trembling against its own confining pressure, threatening to uncoil at any moment. She mentally cursed herself for letting her conscience triumph over her carnal instincts a few days back.

_Stupid, stupid conscience. _

She hadn't anticipated their all-to-brief moment of pure lust would actually make things worse, it was already so bad that it had been inconceivable that it could feel worse, but it did. The burn of knowing she had wasted a chance to find release clouded her mind, bruises forming under her skin where she had given herself imaginary kicks for being so fucking proper. As soon as the car accelerated away from Jackson's family home, all previous inclinations to be proper escaped her. The privacy screen barely separating them from the driver felt like reinforced concrete compared to the figurative fences of guilt, shame and duty their parents had erected for them back in Boston. They tore into each other, each inhaling the other's breath, blurring the lines between them. In her consuming kisses she was apologising to him, and him to her. Her lips was welcoming him home, her tongue reestablishing their connection, her teeth confirming that she was his, all of her. And yet, as much as she had needed to connect with him physically, she knew each kiss was hurting both of them, well aware that this would not be enough. They were destroying each other little by little, but unable to stop it from happening, continuing to test their limits, flying too close to the sun. Each time he brushed against her breast she winced, each time his tongue probed her she flinched, every throb between her legs making her cower. Finally, they broke apart, shaking, her mouth dry, her lips swollen, her chin sore from his slight stubble. Pain mixed with relief washed over his face, and it was simultaneously the most beautiful and heart-breaking thing she had ever seen, knowing that his feelings perfectly matched hers.

She had anticipated that Hartwell would be abuzz with gossip and scandal upon their return, but thankfully most people seemed disinterested, a few frat boy jokes and some not very subtle high-fiving directed at Jackson aside. Hannah and George seemed to find her humiliation amusing, her stories of Jackson's mother's bluntness fanning the flame as opposed to the intended commiserating. Hannah cackled loudly, wiping tears from her eyes as April recounted the incident from the morning she had fallen asleep on Jackson's bed.

"So, still no make-up sex?" Hannah giggled breathlessly, wicked glint in her eyes.

"No," she groaned in frustration, slumping against the wall of George's room. "I can't get suspended again. I'm just going to have to keep busy, you know. Like, maybe I should join the hockey team, or learn to play an instrument or take up Italian or...something! Or maybe I can watch a bunch of horror films or teen pregnancy shows or really really sad news before I go see him? Or maybe I can just avoid him, maybe just never speak to him again, that's doable, right?"

She rolled her eyes at her friends who were both laughing at her, no sympathy at all, leaning her head back against the cool wall.

"Oh my god, what is wrong with me?" she sighed, closing her eyes. "I'm so weak."

"Come on, April," George laughed, placing her hands on april's shoulders, barely maintaining a serious expression. "You were really unlucky you got caught. I mean, what are the chances that Jackson was in your room the one time a year they have a fire drill?"

"Dr Holden was pretty serious about the whole 'don't have sex' thing," she pouted, briefly recalling the headmaster's stern reprimand.

"They have to say that," George continued, managing to contain her hilarity with some effort. "No parent in their right mind would send their kid to boarding school if they didn't have rules against sex, and of course they had to make an example of you, but those rules are mostly for show."

George paused for effect, arranging her face in a mock serious expression.

"They know they are fighting a losing battle, against the most unstoppable biological force of all - horny teenagers."

George delivered her final statement with such over-exaggerated drama that April was forced to laugh, despite herself.

"What does the even mean though?" she finally managed, her conscience still at odds with her immorality. "That everyone is doing it, but just not getting caught?"

George and Hannah exchanged glances, nodding seriously in synchronised agreement.

"But it's like Fight Club, you know?" George said, stony faced, kneeling on the floor in front of her.

"And what is the first rule of Fight Club?" Hannah joined in, mimicking George's expression. "You do not talk about Fight Club."

"And what's the second rule of Fight Club?" George continued, faux intensity in her eyes.

"Ok, ok, I get the point!" April hissed, waving them off.

"You do not talk about a Fight Club!" George and Hannah shouted in unison, cracking each other up.

"I'm surrounded by morons," she huffed, shaking her head at her friends' inability to appreciate her dilemma. She waited a few minutes for them to simmer down before she attempted to speak again. "So do you guys do it here?"

It was too soon, they were having none of it.

"Did you forget the rules already?" George narrowed her eyes at April, then smiled coyly and nodded once, letting her know that she too was an unstoppable force.

April moved her eyes to Hannah, who shrugged, smiled her most innocent smile and batted her lashes.

"But he's such an asshole!"

She regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth, wishing, as she did on a daily basis, that her lips would engage her brain before they let words out. She clasped a hand over the offending mouth, eyes wide as she waited for Hannah's reaction.

"I know," Hannah laughed. "I tell him every day, I think that's why he likes me."

"But seriously, April," George lectured, earnest look on her face. "Talking about it is what will get you caught. That and fire alarms."

She made a valiant effort to distract herself from her raging hormones, filling her days with school, friends and her runs, leaving her hands idle for as little devil's work as possible. The college admissions process was well underway, offering her a respite, a focus point she could handle. Her and Jackson were assigned the same college advisor, Mr Canlas, one of the younger, more relaxed teachers on campus. During their first group session Jackson had surprised her, saying that he was hoping to get an athletic scholarship to play basketball at a division 1 school. He had already received letters from some of the top schools, mentioning names like Baylor, Austin, Indianapolis, all miles from any of the schools she was considering. She pushed it to the back of her mind, instead enthusiastically telling Mr Canlas about her top choices, all west-coast, all Ivy League, all impossibly hard to get into. Mr Canlas seemed to share her enthusiasm, smiling widely, offering little encouragements, suggesting they meet regularly to work on her applications. As she left the session, Jackson trailing behind her, silence fell between them, suddenly realising their relationship had an expiration date. She eyed him carefully, searching his face for clues as to what was going on behind those piercing blue-green eyes, now blinking furiously. She could practically hear his brain working, struggling to find words to cover the range of conflicting emotions the frown on his face betrayed. In the end he found none, instead wrapping his arm around her, pulling her into his chest as they walked through campus in silence.

She knew he'd come to her room that night, she was already wide awake, expecting him, when he slipped through her door without making a sound. He said nothing as he climbed into bed next to her, just pulled her towards him, clutching her tightly. She pressed her face into his chest, tears welling up in her eyes as she grabbed at his sweatshirt, the rustling of her sheets and his steady breath the only sounds filling her ears. They were connected, each of their bodies yearning for the others presence, and nothing could ever feel more right than this. Now that they were finally alone there was no rush anymore, she was savouring the moment, having missed the intimacy of moments like this with him. Her lips searched for his, gently tracing the soft curve of his mouth with the tip of her tongue. As the kiss deepened, there was a quiet need, not an urgency or a ravenous hunger, but an insistence followed by a certainty that gratification would find them. He moved over her, mouth never leaving hers, his big hands wound into hers, bringing them over her head, pushing them into the mattress. He broke away briefly, lips still touching hers, mouthing 'I love you' into her swollen skin.

"I love you too," the words slipping out of her mouth barely audible.

As his lips met hers again, her head tingled with an icy chill, reverberating down her spine. He pulled her t-shirt over her head, running his hot hands over her cool skin, leaving trails of goosebumps where he had touched her. He took of his clothes while she slid out of her panties, wanting to be rid of the final physical barriers between them, craving contact. Bright moonlight filtered through her window, lighting them up, his dark skin against her pale skin. She didn't need to see him to know what he looked like in this moment, every rippling muscle beneath taut skin, every crevice, every soft curve long since etched in her memory. They melted together, her opening herself to him as he filled her, letting him consume her, own her. His mouth held on to hers as he fell into her, his fingers twisting into hers, and though he felt familiar to her in every sense, they felt different together. The insistence between them, the connection pulling them together left her breathless, her stomach in free-fall, weightless inside her as if she was on a roller coaster. He brought her closer to the edge, pausing only to open his eyes and fixing his dark eyes in hers as he pushed her over, and as she fell she finally saw herself as he saw her. She looked into his eyes and could see that he knew her, that he knew what she felt, what she thought, what she craved. She yearned only for him and he only for her, and knowing this absolute truth had her mind flying.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: thanks for all the amazing reviews guys:) just like in GA I couldn't just let them be happy though, that'd be too easy. Let me know what you think, getting close to the end now.**

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She inhaled the smell of fresh cut grass, filling her lungs with air, excited voices buzzing around her. This was it, her final year, her final stepping stone on the way to her dreams, and she was ready. SATs completed, AP exams taken, she was prepared, ready to make the year count, focused on achieving her ambitions. She was also prepared to make the last year with Jackson count, coming to terms with the inevitability of their separation. Summer had been long and difficult again, him being away at a summer basketball programme or busy going to showcases. He had his heart set on this path, she could see it, and when he had explained it to her it had made perfect sense. It was the only ting that was truly his, that had nothing to do with his family name or legacy, the path he could go down with no expectations or pressure other than his own. It made perfect sense, and she had accepted it. There was nothing for him where she was going and nothing for her where he was going, and though it was a sadness she carried with her everyday, she was not heartbroken, not yet. They still had one final year together, and though summer had been difficult there was a certainty between them now that drowned her insecurities and anchored her to him. She giggled softly as familiar, warm arms snaked their way around her waist, stubble rasping against her neck, hot breath on her skin. It was the beginning of September and the end of her missing him.

September was warmer than usual, forcing her to pile her hair up on top of her head, her skirt clinging to her sweaty body. He kissed her hungrily, fingers splayed on her back, leaning into her, her feet threatening to slip away from under her.

"Stop it," she chided him, pushing him back. "Someone will see us."

He'd caught up with her as she waited outside Mr Canlas' office, eyeing her bare legs and her tight skirt, cornering her before she'd had a chance to gather her wits. He still had this effect on her, making her forget the world around her with a flash of those piercing eyes, small smirk on his lips.

"You're really spending far too much time with Mr Canlas and far too little with me," he pouted, teasing her, faint tension in his face.

"Well, maybe I would spend more time with you if you were as helpful as Mr Canlas," she bit back, uselessly trying to fight him off as he leant into her again. "Because right now..." She gasped as he grazed his teeth over her neck. "You're not being very...helpful." She groaned softly as he shut her up by moving his mouth over hers, his hands twisting into her hair, unravelling her topknot.

They broke apart abruptly as heavy footsteps alerted them to the presence of Mr Canlas, awkwardly backing away from each other as he approached.

"Hey Mr C," Jackson muttered, before scurrying away, leaving April to gather up her hair and restore her bun.

"Don't forget our session tomorrow, big man," Mr Canlas shouted after his retreating form, before ushering April into his office.

"Sorry Mr Canlas," she apologised, bracing herself for a reprimand. Hartwell had a pretty strict policy on PDA, the last thing she needed was to set off any alarm bells within the administration.

"You guys know you have to keep a lid on that stuff," he shrugged, removing his blazer and gesturing for her to take a seat. "But let's keep it between us this time."

April smiled, thankful that it had been him that had caught them, relieved that Mr C was a little more relaxed than his colleagues. He was such a cool teacher, always making her laugh and he talked to her like she was a human being rather than an annoying child. Their sessions had been invaluable to her, really helping her to focus on her applications.

"So, let's talk about recommendation letters," Mr Canlas started, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a tattooed arm, before leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

She found herself distracted by his tattoo, thick black lines covering his skin, disappearing under his shirt. She could make out a few letters but couldn't piece together their meaning or recognise the image under the blur of black hairs.

"Do you like it?" His question snapped her out of her thoughts, faint blush forming under her skin as she realised he'd caught her looking.

"Yeah," she swallowed, thinking any other answer rude.

"You like guys with tattoos?"

"Um, sure?" she shrugged, confused by his question.

He laughed a heartfelt, boyish laugh, obliterating her brief discomfort, before returning to the subject of recommendation letters.

The following Sunday Hannah was in her room, flicking through college brochures with her, helping her kill time while Jackson was away visiting one of the more persistent colleges in Austin. They were bored, hot and too lazy to do anything remotely useful. Hannah rolled over on her back, examining her chipped nail polish carefully, humming quietly and badly to the radio.

"Who do you think is the hottest teacher here?" Hannah asked, still investigating her nails.

"We don't have any hot teachers" she said distractedly, nose deep into her Harvard brochure.

"Mr Lane is quite hot," Hannah continued, undeterred, weighing the matter in her head. "In an old man, silver fox kind of way."

"Eww, you're disgusting," she grimaced, trying to shake the image of a foxy Mr Lane out of her head.

"Oh, I know!" Hannah thrilled, inspiration gripping her. "Mr Canlas! He's hot."

"You're delusional," she chided, shaking her head. "There is clearly something very wrong with you."

"He is!" Hannah insisted, now tearing off strips of stale pink nail polish and depositing them on her floor. "He looks like that werewolf in that show."

"No, he doesn't," she laughed, immediately shutting Hannah down. Maybe he did, a little. In a non-hot, teacher kind of way. "Do you know he has a big tattoo on his arm?" April said after a little while, eyes still firmly fixed on the brochure in front of her, teeth pushing down her bottom lip.

"Really?" Hannah sat up, eyes widening. "See, I told you. Hot."

Hannah scanned her room, finally finding what she had been looking for, retrieving a bottle of nail polish remover from a shelf.

"You know who else is hot?" Hannah carried on, carefully removing the scraps of nail polish from her fingers. "That guy who works in the dining hall sometimes, the tall one with the shaved head."

April laughed it off, teeth still digging in to her lips, bruising them.

She was back in Mr Canlas' office the following week, going over the list of people she was going to ask for a letter of recommendation. Their conversation was easy, lighthearted, comfortable, she felt like she was talking to a boy in her class rather than the man who taught it. She suddenly realised she'd been there for an hour, and was readying herself to get up and leave when the conversation turned.

"So, Jackson seems pretty set on Austin?" he asked, dark eyes inquisitive.

"I think so," she exhaled, eyes flickering down towards her hands. "He can't stop talking about it."

"Are you ok with that?" He shifted slightly in his chair, leather creaking under his weight.

She hesitated, carefully weighing her words.

"It's an amazing opportunity for him."

Mr Canlas nodded silently, quiet understanding in his eyes.

"Leaving school can be bittersweet," he said, tone understanding. "Sometimes there are far better things ahead of you than those you leave behind."

She stared at him blankly, not wanting to leave anything behind, not wanting better ahead when she already had the best. His dark eyes lingered on her, his lips parting slightly, and suddenly she felt a brief discomfort again. She got up, his eyes weighing her down, making her move slowly. He got up and opened the door for her.

"See you on Friday," he said, dropping his voice, filling it with an intimacy she didn't recognise.

As she left she felt his hand stroke her back, making her ears tingle with heat, her back stiffen. His hand travelled down, further than it should for a friend, much further than it should for a teacher. Ed was waiting for his appointment outside Mr Canlas' office, eyes registering hands, stiff back and red ears.

She tried to brush it off, the uncomfortable feeling she now carried with her everywhere she went, like a lump of cold ice in her stomach. She tried not to apply any logic to the situation, afraid of what she might discover if she did. She must have read too much into it, it was probably just an innocent gesture. She must have exaggerated, he was probably just comforting her. She must have encouraged him, he was probably just being friendly. She was punishing herself with 'must haves' and absolving him with probabilities.

"You ok?" Jackson paused to look at her in the middle of telling her about how great the Austin coach was.

She smiled and nodded, swallowing her lunch without chewing.

"You know this is an amazing opportunity for me, right?" He searched her eyes for confirmation, voice pleading.

"It is an amazing opportunity," she agreed. "You will be amazing in Austin, or Indianapolis or wherever you go."

"And you'll be amazing in Harvard, or Brown or wherever you go." He reached across the table, rubbing circles with his thumb on her hand.

"We'll both be amazing, in different places," she said not sadly, but conclusively.

She dreaded her next meeting with Mr Canlas, though she refused to admit to herself that she did. She was as bright and peppy as she had ever been throughout their session, gushing over the letter of recommendation Mr Hall had written for her. He seemed unfazed, chatting away as normal, asking for updates on her other letters. She pulled out a another email from her colour coded folder, passing it to him, but instead of taking the paper he walked around the desk, hovering over her to read it. Her stomach tightened as he rested a hand on her back, the other on the desk next to her, his blazer brushing against her face.

"This is good," he encouraged, not looking at her. "We can work with this."

As she put the piece of paper back in her folder, he turned towards her, carefully brushing her thigh with his hand. She immediately stiffened, shrinking away from him.

"Please don't."

"It's okay," he said quietly, dark eyes burning into her. "Don't worry."

He didn't move the hand he held on her back, made no gesture to back away from her. The lump of ice in her stomach had now frozen her entire body, paralysing her, cutting off her circulation.

"You have such a nice, athletic body," he said, stroking her thigh once again.

"Don't," she repeated, squirming in her seat, willing her body to get up and walk away.

Before she could he leant in and kissed her on the cheek, stale, hot breath stinging her, tearing her nose.

"No." She didn't recognise her own voice, small and tight in her throat, not loud and angry as it sounded in her head. She blamed her small, weak voice for a multitude things for years after, especially for abandoning her that day.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I know I short-changed you with my last chapter, sorry! I was really hungover, and I shouldn't really write when I am, but I was going somewhere and this is where I was going:) thanks for bearing with me. I know you don't want anything bad to happen to April, but bad things happen to good people all the time, we all know this, and you know I will never not go there. Only one more chapter to go after this, so pls let me know what you think!**

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He sits across the desk from her, dark curly hair falling across his face, eyes resting heavily on her. His expression calm, confident, sinister. She desperately wants to run out of the door screaming, but she is powerless around him. He shouldn't have this much control over her but he does, and it's the most shameful thing, the fact that no matter how many people she knows has her back, she can tell none of them about this. At first he pretends that what he is doing is ok, normal, friendly, and she says nothing, except 'no' to him. But the more she says no, the more he insists, the angrier he gets, and he starts punishing her, threatening her. She has to come see him every other day, then every day, spend a whole hour sitting in his office, alone and terrorized. If she doesn't he will ruin her, tell everyone she is psychotic, hysterical, lying, and everyone will believe him, not her. If she doesn't he will tell Jackson that she started it, she was flirting, she was touching, she was kissing. If she doesn't he will not write her the recommendation letter she needs, not the one Jackson needs, and that kills her, so she comes and sits in the room with him for an hour each day, wanting to run out of the door screaming the whole time. Sometimes he touches her, brushes against her, plays with her hair, tries to kiss her, but she mostly manages to dodge him. Sometimes she is the love of his life, what he needs the most, the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Other times he curses her, with him she is sometimes nothing, insignificant, immaterial, most of the times she is a bitch, a slut, a whore, and he makes her feel like one. When she is not locked in his physical presence, he reaches out to her mind, sending her long rambling emails or text messages declaring himself, praising her, making love to her with his words, then blaming her, accusing her, denouncing her. It goes on for weeks, months, and he is exhausting her.

Jackson notices, of course, as does everyone else. She is spending too much time with Mr C, it's not normal. He questions her, she deflects, tries and fails to distract him.

"Why don't you want me to touch you anymore?" he complains.

She doesn't want to be touched much anymore, which is unusual for her, for them, and frustrating for him. She has no reasonable answer, and she knows she is hurting him, which makes her hurt worse. She is already agitated, nervous energy rippling through her body. Her neck is tense, her head hurting, her stomach hurting, filled with a lump of ice that refuses to melt. She looks unwell, constantly, skinnier than before, dark circles under her eyes, which even her best friends mistake for guilt. He gets jealous, not unreasonably so from the face of things, but his jealousy is utterly misguided, and it exhausts her further.

An ugly rumour surfaces after a while, rising around her like a tidal wave. Someone has seen something, drawn conclusions, put pieces together, seemingly a perfect fit. The rumour is as rumours often are, false, hurtful and suffocating. It is his worst threat realised, everyone now convinced that she is a cheater, and it's his worst condemnation, everyone else now also calling her a whore. It is her worst nightmare, but she is already awake. Nausea washes over her as Hannah and George offer her sympathetic looks and understanding hugs, because they are sympathetic about the wrong thing and they understand nothing. In their words they tell her they believe her, but in their eyes she sees that they don't, exactly as he told her they wouldn't. Still she says nothing, the weight of his threats crushing her diminishing frame.

Jackson finally confronts her, fed up with the same rumour being relayed to him in hushed tones, accompanied by apologetic glances and faces filled with pity.

"What is going on with you and Mr C?" he asks, eyes averted as if he is already flinching from an answer he has been expecting. He doesn't ask her if the rumour is true, but she realises he already thinks it is, essentially asking her for a confession.

"Nothing," she says wearily, for the millionth time. She knows she owes him a confession, just not the one he is expecting, and it's the one thing she can't offer him right now.

"This is insane," he mutters to himself, hands on hips, body slightly turned away from her. "You know what everyone is saying, right?"

She nods, lips dry, she feels dejected, trapped.

"It's not true," she says simply, knowing it is impossible for him to believe her.

"This makes no sense," he whispers, running a hand over his head in exasperation, eyes blinking and blinking.

"If the words don't add up, it's usually because the truth was never in the equation," she offers, realising how inadequate her words are to him.

"I love you," he says desperately, fighting for her. "But you're not being straight with me."

"I love you too," she says equally desperate, wanting it to be enough.

Still she says nothing, safeguarding a secret that is destroying her whether she keeps it or not, but she will not let it destroy him too.

Later that day she has to go see Mr Canlas again, dragging her feet behind her. He is in foul mood, she can see it straightaway. He is pacing the room, agitated, almost manic.

"What were you doing with him?" he hisses, teeth gritted, eyes narrow. She realises he means Jackson, and quickly decides not to aggravate him further by answering.

"What were you talking about?" He won't leave her alone, his voice increasingly menacing.

"Were you talking about me?" There are no answers to any of his questions, so she cowers, shrinks and hopes he can calm himself down.

"I have given you everything, you ungrateful bitch!" He keeps his voice low, so no one passing by his office can hear him, but to her he is shouting unbearably loud.

"I've done everything you have asked of me, and you still treat me like I'm nothing!" He is escalating, every vein in his throat protruding and pulsating, teeth gritted, fists clamped tightly together.

He rips her out of her chair, hands digging into her arm, making her yelp out in pain. The sound of her pain only seems to anger him further, slamming her into the wall, her wrists locked in his impossibly strong grasp. He presses his lips to hers, desperately, forcefully, painfully. His hands feel wrong on her, hard and threatening, unrelenting and unforgiving. He hovers over her, face red and furious, and she is scared. Scared of what he is going to do next, scared of how far he will go before he stops, scared that he will never stop.

"Fucking whore!"

She barely registers what happens next, she feels her head crack against the wall, a sharp flash of pain spreading across her face, a warm trickle of fluid flowing from her nose, and then she can't feel her legs anymore. Her vision is skewed, she can see feet approaching, but they are the wrong angle. She can hear muffled voices, Ed? Mr C? Mr Hall? She is not sure, her ears are ringing, her eyes wet, and nothing makes sense anymore.

"I'm sorry."

His voice is soft, filled with pain, and it sounds wrong. She turns towards the voice, cringing as her brain slams against her skull, filling her eyes with tears. He looks beautiful even though his face is marred with worry and anger. She tries to sit up from the examination table, paper rustling under her, pain stopping her.

"Don't," he warns, leaning over her, hands that feel better on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she cries, overwhelmed with pain and shame, but mostly shame.

He strokes her face, tries to wipe away her tears, but they keep coming, making his hands wet. He has to wipe them on his jeans after a while.

"You should have told me," he says when he realises the tears aren't going to stop anytime soon.

"I know," she says, struggling to control her voice. "You should have trusted me."

"I know." He is angry, and she gets that he is not angry with her, but she doesn't need angry right now, angry is not helpful.

"Can you just...?"

He understands, face softening, blueish-green eyes moist and steady, hands that feel right soothing her. She hesitates to fill in the blanks for him, knowing the final piece of the puzzle will hurt him, but he deserves the truth.

"He threatened to fuck up your college applications if I told anyone."

He swallows hard, eyes falling to the floor, nodding in realisation, anger dissipating. He is a part of this, he is culpable, but she will never blame him for it.

The whole sad affair unravels, Mr Canlas illicit emails quickly painting a vivid picture for the administration, drawing the interest of the authorities. A career is shattered, a marriage is broken, a family torn apart, but she can't care, and she won't. All she cares about is her future, and Jackson's, which she is assured will be dealt with and given every possible consideration. All she cares about is Jackson, and that they will be ok, that this will not break them, and she is hopeful. All she cares about is herself, that she is strong enough, smart enough, brave enough to let go of the shame, guilt and regret. That is all she cares about, and that is enough for now.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: ok, so this is the final part of the story, thanks so much for all your support though my very first stab at writing anything at all, you guys rock. Please let me know what you thought of this, the story as a whole, anything and everything, always.**

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She throws her head back, red curls shaking as she laughs, eyes beaming. Someone has said something funny, and he is mesmerized by her, watching her from across the yard. Her cheeks dimple as she giggles, enthralled in conversation with George and Hannah. She looks younger when she laughs, impermeable, like nothing has ever hurt her and nothing ever will. Her eyes flicker briefly over to him, and she is smiling that smile, the smile she reserves only for him, soft, knowing and intimate. He can't stop his own mouth turning up, returning her smile, his face still reacting to her long after she has turned back to her friends. She reminds him of every good day he's ever had, and she makes him forget his bad days altogether. He puts his hand in his pocket, carefully fingering the folded up piece of paper he's been carrying around with him for the past month. The weight of the letter is slight, but its significance hefty, and he still hasn't made his decision.

She had snuck up on him, he hadn't been expecting her. When he first laid eyes on her he hadn't paid much attention, and she had mostly ignored him too. He wasn't used to being ignored, and she had practically avoided him, seemingly eager to get away from him. He had felt the challenge rise inside him, he had wanted to prove to her that he couldn't be so easily dismissed, but in the end she was the one that had showed him up. The minute he had cornered her on the darkened basketball court, he had realized that this girl was nothing like anyone he'd ever met before. He was used to forward, flirty, outrageous, and he knew how to handle those girls. He had no idea what to do with intense, questioning and indecipherable. When he broke off that first kiss, he was already hooked, coming back to her was an inevitability.

He moves through the crowd, searching, surrounded by intoxicated, excitable friends. The party is just getting started, the music thumping loudly, spirited voices shouting over each other to be heard. He is buzzed, warm and fuzzy, slightly unsteady on his feet. She finds him before he can find her, but she is far worse off than he is, swaying slowly as he turns around in her arms.

"Hey," he smiles, amused at her unfocused eyes, her slow smile.

"Heeey," she slurs, leaning slender hands on his arms as he tries to steady her. "You wanna dance?"

"I'm good thanks," his slight lisp exaggerated by the alcohol rushing through his system. "You know I don't dance."

"Jackson!" She whines, pronouncing his name with added h's and s's. "It's our grad party! You have to dance with me!"

She's a cute drunk, all giggles and smiles and hands, but he doesn't dance, no exceptions, not even for her. He is saved by an equally exuberant and unsteady Hannah, who shouts something incoherent about dance floors and lost causes, before she drags April along with her. He watches them as they bound happily together towards the throng of people already moving energetically and completely out of synch to the heavy bass. She is happy, carefree, elated and his eyes never leave her as she moves across the floor.

She was almost instantly too much for him, they were too much together. Every time he was with her she pushed him further, and it frightened him how much he needed to be around her. It was difficult for him to process what it meant, how he was supposed to be when he was with her. Up till that point he'd only had one constant in his life, his overbearing, suffocating mother, and he was used to coasting through life without forming any serious attachments. Until her, until she pushed her way into his life with an unmatched certitude, claiming a place in his life without ever mentioning it with a word. He'd fucked it up of course, pushed her away without ever making any conscious decisions. He never explained, he hardly knew how to explain it to himself. He knew he had hurt her, he could see that the smile she plastered on her face was fake, but she had got over it quickly, and it had left him questioning whether he had ever really had her at all.

She dances like nobody's watching, and he is hoping he is the only one watching her. Her hips are swaying, feet a little unsteady, but the way she's moving is reminding him of other times she moves with him, steady as a rock. She is oblivious to him watching her, which is just as well, he doesn't want to make her self conscious, he is enjoying the show.

"Hey, man", Tom says, dumping down into the sofa next to him. "Having a good time?"

"Yeah," he exhales, dragging his eyes away from April. "Thanks for having this party."

The whole year is here, celebrating their graduation in Tom's parents' massive Hamptons beach house.

"The end of an era, man," Tom nods solemnly. "Last time we see ninety percent of these people."

"Yup," he agrees, heart twisting as April looks over and flashes him a happy smile.

"So, what are you and April gonna do?"

He sighs, running his hand over his head, shrugging off the question. April got into Harvard, he'd gotten the chance of a lifetime to play ball at Austin. Time is running out, running away, separating them.

"You really like her, don't you?" Tom's question is more of a statement. It's awkward talking like this, they're never usually this serious with each other.

"Truth?" He takes a big swig from his beer bottle, steeling himself. "I like her a lot. She's smart, she's beautiful, she's a little awkward. And I love her."

He'd been without her for a year and it had made no difference at all. She was still the first person he looked for when he walked into a room, still the only person he looked for. He had tried to push her out of his mind, tried to distract himself with Nikki, but it had only made things worse. He kept comparing her with April, and the differences between them could not have been greater. He had to have her, had to make her take him back and he hadn't let up until she finally relented. He hadn't been prepared for how difficult it would be, hadn't realised the depth of the pain he had inflicted on her, the strength of her emotions. But once she came back it was like coming home, like realising he was supposed to have been there the whole time. Where Nikki was light, low-calorie, non-fattening, April was original, stick-to-your-ribs, mouth-watering realness. He knew he never wanted to be without her again.

The music is thumping, sweat mixing with perfume and alcohol and salty sea air. She comes swooping in off the dance floor, giddy and elated, sliding onto his lap.

"I need a break," she pants, breath uneven, cheeks flushed.

He buries his head in her neck, kisses her soft, sticky skin and pulls her closer. She smells like the sun has been on her skin all day, sun cream blending with sea, sweat mixing with deodorant.

"Let's go get some air," she says, voice thick and slow with alcohol.

She pulls him off the sofa, and leads him outside where the air is supposed to be cooler, but it's still hot as hell. It's also quieter, darker and they are alone. She pushes into him, her mouth finding his and he's been waiting for this all night. Her tongue is sweet, like peaches, and her upper lip is salty from the hot night, she tastes like summer. He folds his arms around her slight frame, covering most of her ass with one hand, losing his other hand in her tangled mess of hair. He kisses her harder, his lips pressing against her teeth, letting her know how badly he wants her. He's drunk, unsteady, partly from the alcohol, but mostly the scent of her skin and the rhythm of her heartbeat.

He'd never had any addictions, at least not any that meant something, but he'd never known how addicting something could be until he had snuck into her room and lost himself in her. Being with her was more than an act of pleasure, it was as if she intensified everything, every touch, every smell, every sight. She became his obsession, to the point where it was almost painful to sit next to her and not touch her. He felt like a pervert, always watching her, checking her out, taking any chance he could to steal moments alone with her. Getting caught sneaking out of her room was as inevitable as his mother's daily calls, and though he had felt bad that April had been so embarrassed, he'd been unprepared for how loud it had made her insecurities. He called her beautiful over and over, tried his best to make her feel secure and confident, but she constantly undervalued what she was and overvalued what she wasn't. He could see her imperfections and it made no difference to him, he loved her more for them, and only wished that she could do the same for herself.

She is eager, alcohol making her more brazen than she normally would be. Her hands are on his ass, pulling him roughly towards her, arms stronger than they look. He is retracing lines he has already drawn on her with kisses on her skin, tracing the curve of her neck with his lips. He closes his eyes as she moans loudly, there is nothing hotter than her voice responding to his mouth on her. A low, rumbling growl resonates in his chest as he lifts her up in the air to align her mouth better to his. He leans her back up against the wall of the house, her legs are tightly clamped around his hips, and her closeness is intoxicating him further. There is something about her, no matter how many times he hears her voice whispering his name or feels her hands on his skin he can never get enough. He always wants more of her.

He didn't get to choose, he just fell in love and he got this person who was so right, but also all kinds of wrong. And after a while the wrongs didn't feel so wrong anymore, they felt like they had to be there to balance all the rights, to clear his perspective, to love the rights even more. He wanted all of her, even the parts she didn't want herself, the ones she tried to hide, the parts she was convinced no one would ever love. He felt so close to her, so connected, so comfortable it was almost breathtaking, he could barely handle it. He could spend hours with her doing nothing and still feeling like everything had happened. All of a sudden she had looked at him with a certainty in her eyes and it had hit him like a ton of bricks. She had chosen him and he had chosen her, for all her insecurities he knew she had none when it came to him. Her confidence in him, in them, was unwavering and words were irrelevant. She was sure. He was sure.

He wants her so much he can't stand it. Her nails are scraping against the back of his head with undeniable urgency. Thankfully alcohol is making her decisive and resourceful, dragging him by his t-shirt towards the darkened guesthouse at the back of the garden. She is giggling and stumbling in front of him, but her breath is ragged and her dress far too short, practically scandalous. She finds an empty room, and there is a bed but they don't make it, collapsing into each other on the floor, tearing clothes off warm bodies. Her eyes are soft and filled with longing as she rests herself on her elbows while he pulls down her panties, and he's done for.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," he whispers, barely recognising his own voice, alcohol-fuelled and thirsty.

And she is fucking beautiful, pale skin gleaming in the dark room, familiar curves soft and firm at the same time. Her breasts fit perfectly in his hands, as if they were made especially for him. He finds her lips, forcing his tongue into her mouth, pushing her back down on the floor. He pulls away and places her hands over her head, holding them down as she arches her breasts up towards him, and he nearly loses it there and then. He is looking into her eyes as he gently slides inside her, and she still gasps softly every time he does it, as if it's the first time, as if he is too much for her. She has no inhibitions tonight, letting go completely and allowing her mind to follow her body as he pounds into her. He watches her face as she lets pleasure flow through her body, trying to prolong her ecstasy, but she is already tightening around him. He leans in to kiss her, swallowing her sobs as she clasps her legs and arms around him tightly, and he loses control with her. He pulls away, feeling hot and high, struggling to calm his breathing down. She's like a drug coursing through his veins, affecting his whole nervous system, intoxicating his mind, and she's an addiction he never wants to overcome.

He'd never been angrier, never more disappointed with himself than when he had realised what brutality April had been subjected to by their teacher. He'd been forced to take a long, hard look at himself, he'd been eaten up by jealousy and he'd been so afraid of losing her that he'd not seen the situation clearly, taking vicious words of others as his ultimate worst-case-scenario truth. He'd wanted to kill Mr Canlas, physically harm him for daring to go near her, but he'd never gotten the opportunity, so he'd taken it out on a wall instead. Ramming his fist into a brick wall had not been the best idea, since his hands were supposed to be his future livelihood, but he'd barely registered the pain or noticed the blood pouring. He'd let her down in the worst possible way, and he had no idea if she'd ever forgive him. If the roles were reversed he wasn't sure that he would have been able to forgive her. It took her a while to find her way back, her smile a little duller, her confidence almost non-existent. He had no idea how to help her, so he did the only thing he could think of and paid for her ticket back to Moline so she could spend time with her family. When she came back she was already better, but he took his time with her, making sure she ate, encouraged her to start running again and at night he'd slip into her room so he could sleep next to her. Slowly the negative power Mr Canlas had held over her released it's grip on her, and she found him again, taking little steps every day to break free from her broken self. He found it hard to forgive himself long after she had, but she saw right through his bullshit, stuck to him despite all the mistakes he had made with her, smiled even when he had done nothing for her. It was glaringly obvious there would never be anyone else for him, and also obvious that he didn't deserve her.

They venture back out in the warm night, wanting to stretch time and not be faced with the realities of a future that will not wait for them. They find their group of friends on the beach, worn out from the party that is winding down behind them, too tired to stay awake, and too drunk for rational conversation, but time is precious right now, so they huddle together and manage as best they can. They are all going separate ways, about to be cut loose from each other, but for tonight at least they are still together, still an of course in each other's lives. He lies down in the sand, pulling April close to his chest so they can watch the stars in the clear night. The letter that has been burning a hole in his pocket is still there, reminding him that he still hasn't made a decision. The letter has been welcome and not, offering him a different kind of future than he had wanted, a future he had been trying to avoid, but also a future that held new possibilities he didn't even know he was hoping for. The letter is offering her, and her future, and he still has to decide. What lasts, lasts; what doesn't, doesn't. Time solves most things, and what time doesn't solve, he has to solve himself, he understands this now. As the sun starts to rise on the horizon, he looks down at April fast asleep on his chest and he thinks to himself that he wouldn't mind spending all his days with her.

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**A/N: hope it was all you were wishing it was would to be:) I've already got something in mind for another story, but if you have any urges and needs you can always PM me :)**


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